Whatever your take on Tibetan Buddhism, this is done with powerful sincerity and musical sensibility. The Albanian born Kodheli in particular does a remarkable job, and I defy anyone to listen to Anderson’s voice for an hour and not become a better person. [Oct 2019, p.48]

More so than her previous work, Carla dal Forno establishes a cold, dreary atmosphere as the ground for lyrics and delivery that strike a balance between doleful and cool. [Oct 2019, p.50]

Bringing further gravitas and grace to mundanity, he continues in the business of poetically detailing everyman strife and significant moments. [Oct 2019, p.50]

Each listen evokes a different feeling. At times there is a feeling of contentedness. [Oct 2019, p.55]

Sonic Citadel is a showcase for titanic, incisive riffs, gnarly yet immediate, accessible. [Oct 2019, p.56]

Somebody’s Knocking is marginally more rockin’ than 2017’s uninspired Gargoyle – due to a slightly increased emphasis on guitar – but it doesn’t measure up to 2014’s Phantom Radio (or its EP companion No Bells On Sunday). [Oct 2019, p.63]

Unlike the alluring textural build-up that precedes it, this rocking culmination feels frustratingly empty, as if missing a voice. ... Eventually [on "8 Spring Street"] a groovy, almost accidental rock lick is dispersed by a radiant conclusion. ... [On "Galaxies (Sky)"] Picked and bowed strings sound pleasant like wind chimes, then painful like nails scraping across a blackboard. The guitarists’ incessant repetitions are reminiscent of Orthrelm’s OV until a lone guitar breaks the cycle by oscillating sharp chords, augmenting them to saturation. [Oct 2019, p.56]

This album finds itself wandering far too into pop territory, without the accompanying substance and adventure that made his preceding releases so refreshing. [Oct 2019, p.67]

It is al-gitarra in the classic style: raw and intimate, with the gravel-voiced Abaraybone leading the band through the militant and melancholy blues that have long been his trademark. [Oct 2019, p.61]

Patton and Vannier make a fine combination, vintage and modern, taking familiar sounds wonderfully elsewhere. [Oct 2019, p.58]

It’s dense and esoteric, but gorgeous. [Oct 2019, p.55]

There’s a sweetness, and an earnestness, driving these ecstatic breakbeat rave confections (you can hear the influence of Drew’s hardcore-heavy record collection too). In someone else’s hands that mood could feel forced, or just plain naff, but Resonant Body never does – if your hairs don’t stand on end for the daft euphoria of “Spin Girl, Let’s Activate” or the raw junglism of “Ecstatic Beat”, it’s about time you got off the dancefloor. [Oct 2019, p.64]

There’s a weighty sense of looking back and taking stock to Venus In Leo, while simultaneously navigating a present that’s growing increasingly alien to its protagonists. [Oct 2019, p.55]

Antwood hops between an arcade’s worth of genres, twiddling microprocessors to their squiffy, pixel-helicopter max later in that track, or embracing flute and some approximation of a banjo on “Castalian Fountain” before the Street Fighter beats hit. [Sep 2019, p.65]

Devour is unwaveringly formless; drills, drones and hysterical screeches become food for trauma. It’s frightening, at many points torturous, but not without emotional weight. The record mirrors what oppression really looks, sounds and feels like – no pool parties, ice tea, sunglasses and shiny colour palettes, just untamed agony, screaming and pain. [Sep 2019, p.60]

Code warms up as it winds down, as Malone is joined by frequent collaborator Ellen Arkbro for a trio of live recordings. [Sep 2019, p.56]

The End Of Radio’s cache of 1994 and 2004 John Peel sessions admirably bucks expectations even as it serves up multiple reminders that Shellac are a crack live unit equipped with airtight panic room ragers. And while singer/guitarist Albini takes care to toast BBC DJ Peel, who died weeks prior to the 2004 sessions, the charge here lies in hearing Albini, drummer Todd Trainer and bassist Bob Weston improve upon and deviate from the studio recordings. [Sep 2019, p.62]

This album is not about re-using their old sounds. Most of the tracks offer something different and work well to complement the story being told. [Sep 2019, p.54]

He cites Frank Sinatra and Disney soundtracks as influences, and creates gorgeous music that paired with the vibrant visuals, disguises the horror within the film itself. [Sep 2019, p.56]

Not hating the LP, but not liking it much either, seeing it as a mid-level release covering all bases; political interludes, references to reparations and racism, interspersed with rap-frat boy antics. [Sep 2019, p.58]

They sound for good or ill like they’ve beamed in from psychedelic hard rock’s boom period too. ... Face Stabber is 80 minutes long, with two songs accounting for 35 of those minutes, and betrays mild hubris as regards their ability to jam interestingly. [Sep 2019, p.60]

Torche’s engagingly awry blend of harmony and heaviosity finds full fruition on Admission, an album you might feel somewhat ashamed for enjoying so thoroughly. [Sep 2019, p.61]

There's a mismatch between sound and vision here that forestalls true wonder or joy. ... A little more concision and concentration throughout could have made Guild of the Asbestos Weaver more effective. [Sep 2019, p.62]

An even deeper dig into the wound exposed on her debut. The album is drenched in divinity, its consideration of good and evil as polar concepts is biblical, elevating vengeance to a God-given imperative. Her classically trained voice deals in spiritual cadences, and commands gothic instrumentation of strings and drones. [Aug 2019, p.58]

This is folk music for the post-industrial era, which aspires to the condition of a true world music, not as a postcard from some Club Med of the mind, but as a dispatch from the front lines of both climate change and the extinction of animal species (real and imagined). Essential listening, and a real adventure in the undergrowth of the underground. Sit a spell in the shade of the Borametz. [Aug 2019, p.56]

Delivers on the forward-looking promise of The Art Ensemble’s motto: great black music – ancient to the future. [May 2019, p.61]

This is Ambarchi at his most user-friendly, waxing nostalgic for a music that never was. [Aug 2019, p.50]

House And Land’s eternal music drone tendencies are more sparingly employed than their debut, but folkie staple “Blacksmith” is a glorious outlier to this end, Morgan’s shruti box a keening back and forth foil to a two centuries old tale of metalworker induced heartbreak. [Aug 2019, p.64]

he 22a label founder flexes his expansive musical influences across ten new creations. One of the most exciting tracks here is “Buffalo Gurl”. Dividing its time between earlier R&B and sultry jazz chords, it’s the pick me up you didn’t know you needed. [Aug 2019, p.65]

Things improve markedly when he plays to his strengths with the nuanced narrative of “A Boy Is A Gun”, but ultimately such moments [are] hard to hear over the pitiable “Puppet” and “Earfquake”, functional pop wisely rejected by Justin Bieber and Rihanna. When the narrative sags and his mind seems to wander, it just isn’t enough, no matter how stylish the trimmings. [Aug 2019, p.68]

“Simon Says” and “Pimpin’” prove she works well with Juicy J as long as he stays away from the mic. But “Hood Rat Shit” is the real highlight, a moment where for all the gory details her glee is more Dennis The Menace than Lil Kim. [Aug 2019, p.68]

Brassy and direct, it looked north and west, toward the coastal Caribbean and into the forest. Kicking carimbó, bangué, siriá and other up-country sounds are ably documented on Jambú. [Aug 2019, p.67]

There’s a food theme to this super light and easy but lushly layered 1970s and 80s themed reverie. [Aug 2019, p.66]

“Stir The Sea” coasts on a choice yowly blues metal riff, but teased out slow jams like “Arcurlarius – Burke” are equally their forte. The vocal resemblance of Brian Markham and Meat Puppets’ Curt Kirkwood helps crystallise a bubbling under comparison with the latter, although Dommengang aren’t in The Puppets’ league when it comes to ingenuity or, frankly, personality. [Aug 2019, p.64]

The music on Old Star is not black metal, stylistically speaking, but it nonetheless telegraphs Darkthrone’s cackling, sardonic grimness so as to transpose a blackened atmosphere into speed metal riff salad, epic/trad doom and frequent moments that call up Celtic Frost’s hallowed splicing of iron and velvet. [Aug 2019, p.64]

Limned in choirs, organs and brass, the languorous “Snow Is Falling In Manhattan” flips dolour into something magical, and transcendent. Strip away that prairie pedal steel and loosen the seams, and “Darkness And Cold” would be the kind of standard Leonard Cohen might test drive, were he still with us. [Aug 2019, p.59]

He doesn’t strain in the falsetto passages and there’s no papering over the cracks in his phrasing. He’s as accurate and precise as he ever was, projecting even at low volumes. [Aug 2019, p.55]

Davachi’s early love of Bach pervades the initial section of “Perfumes I-III”. [Aug 2019, p.54]

Their third album Horizon is mellifluous and pretty, with a rolling, tumbling quality that feels like a downhill race. [Jul 2019, p.57]

I Was Real isn’t going to disappoint 75 Dollar Bill’s old fans. ... Augmentations and roots moves do nothing to dilute 75 Dollar Bill’s essence. If anything, I Was Real is ultra-real. [Jul 2019, p.44]

It joins Titanic and Big Thief’s UFOF (members of Big Thief are present) as one of 2019’s leftfield pop gems, a record created with no detectable consciousness of a wider scene but with a bedroom-wide sense of possibility. [Jul 2019, p.52]

Some tracks go on far longer than is comfortable, some peter out prematurely, some wander off in a direction that doesn’t immediately make sense. But even without the context of Troxler’s career, that’s fine. It’s obviously a personal record, with a distinctive sound palette, expressing some fairly profound and fun experiences. [Jun 2019, p.58]

The bouncy yet deadpan Italo energy of first single “The Girls Are Chewing Gum” sets the tone, with cosmic blasts and ray gun bleeps lending variation to the subsequent tracks. [Jun 2019, p.49]

Real world concerns – motherhood, self-growth, the responsibilities of adult life – are transformed into brightly synthesised fantasias. ... For a small scale project, Bamboo’s vision of pop feels pristine, a little utopia realised. [Jul 2019, p.57]

Sounds as if it could have been recorded in the city 50 years ago with a hotshot producer like Bones Howe or Curt Boettcher at the helm. ... “If You Don’t Know Now, You Never Will” might be the best example of this delicate balance, with the track “Fools” being the second; even though that song sometimes leans into mid-1970s schlock territory best left to Boz Scaggs or Andrew Gold. [Jun 2019, p.65]

On their sharply delivered follow-up, they delve into darker realms of the genre utilising the combination of abrasive though sparsely used guitars and dub inflections to exhibit something similar to This Heat, or maybe even present day British noise rock collective Gnod. [Jun 2019, p.65]

The sonic centre of gravity is Ranaldo’s instantly identifiable guitar sound, and if you can’t get enough of that, this disc is for you. ... Pàndi’s work with Merzbow and Keiji Haino attests to his ability to hold his own in heavy company, but he restricts himself to sparse, black light coloration throughout this session. Urselli is a bassist and electronic musician as well as an engineer, and while he didn’t do any post hoc editing or overdubbing it’s likely that he is responsible for the recording’s rather amorphous final shape. [Jun 2019, p.63]

Sirens is unlike anything produced under his other aliases The Bug, Techno Animal or Ice. It exists as a piece of sound art rather than a club record. ... Sirens is testament to the ability of sound and its manipulation to transcend language. [Jun 2019, p.60]

A captivating fourth album from the Richmond, Virginia outfit that casts a woeful eye over Trump’s America. [Jun 2019, p.56]

Where Inter Arma employ Cascadian elements and bottomheavy tonalities in order to plumb the depths of the soul, Full Of Hell express the desire to not simply ponder life’s futility but to actively resist those feelings. [Jun 2019, p.56]

Droneflower is both the most persuasive release Nadler has put her name to since 2014’s July and one of Brodsky’s finest efforts outside of Cave In. It gestures at a beautiful future, should the duo choose to pursue it. [Jul 2019, p.52

Wiggs’s music works best when it sets out its melodic ideas, then takes its time subtracting elements until you’re left with a filament of what you started with, as on the stunning penultimate track “The Soft Stars That Shine”. [Jul 2019, p.58]

Real feast of words expressing a way more convoluted and realistic portrait of a conflicted British psyche. [Jul 2019, p.55]

In emotional terms Titanic Rising is immense – names like Annette Peacock, Linda Perhacs and Judee Sill come to mind, but only because it feels like so long since you’ve heard pop this epic yet unmannered. ... With tracks like the stunning “Something To Believe” lodging themselves into your heart with the sure knowledge that your relationship with this music will only deepen as the year unfolds. [Jul 2019, p.52]

Flamagra is still more accessible than either Quiet or Dead! and this is most likely due to Ellison’s choice of vocal collaborators. [Jul 2019, p.49]

The parsimoniously arranged, mostly acoustic sound of the record enhances its projection of intimacy. ... Callahan doesn’t entirely give up his old taste for blankly delivered disturbance; his memory of childbirth includes the blood. But he’s never sounded so open or so genuinely happy. [Jul 2019, p.48]

The production from DJ Mustard hits like a cannonball dive into chlorinated waters, as Greedo croons his mystical pain salves, channelling Soulja Slim and Boosie if they grew up on Grape Street. But he shows his depth on the gorgeous anthem to his wife “Gettin’ Ready”. [Jun 2019, p.69]

Rainford is a classic set of Scratch vocals: science fiction nursery rhymes, apocalyptic lullabies, their melodies light as air yet rocksteady. Scratch’s delivery at the age of 83 is like Dylan’s present-day rasp, no longer about hitting notes or even tone necessarily, but heavy with the weight of his personal and musical history. [May 2019, p.61]

The minimal tracks here stretch (and sometimes tangle) like long chains of extruded material, pulsing along into the future. [Jun 2019, p.68]

The end result is the closest Cave In have ever come to revisiting the stellar stream of 2000’s Jupiter – the space rock monolith that boosted them into the wider consciousness. [Jun 2019, p.52]

His ability to manipulate sounds of urban bleakness into piss-stained musique concrète is as present as ever, from bass that booms like mourning gasometers to choking metallic smog ambience. Yet Younger’s skill lies not as yet another artist soundtracking urban decay but in enticing and confounding with sounds that straddle the uncanny valley. [Jun 2019, p.40]

Tracks have potent moments, but they’re slapped together with little thought for overall flow. [Jun 2019, p.60]

Although The Canon is a late arrival its mood is consistent with that of its predecessors. The recording is sharper and more delineated, but Leon steers clear of modern sonics that might date it. ... Apart from the titles, there is no narrative as such to this collection, but it works as absolute music, in which Leon creates the impression of mysterious and open spaces. [May 2019, p.58]

Dig into the four-to-the-floor derangement of “Lapwing” and the post-rock inflected “First Light” to hear a band seemingly capable of doing anything, yet remaining fleetfootedly themselves throughout. [Jun 2019, p.56]

As I spent more time with their tunes piercing through my earbuds, I finally succumbed to their truly infectious ways. [Jun 2019, p.65]

The narrower focus, combined with the decision to return to Seattle’s Studio Soli, raises the thought that Earth might have, at last, orbited back to the roaring wastelands of their early 1990s work. Jump into the longer cuts here, though, and you find something that sounds less like a trip on Tibetan quaaludes, more a slow chug of whisky. [Jun 2019, p.56]

But where Konoyo was a more visceral invocation of the electronic sublime, Anoyo stretches out and creates space for the reeds to be heard amid the splices, obstructions and reversals of the Los Angeles based producer’s typically stratified sonic design. [May 2019, p.67]

“Myopia For The Future” and “No Body” present similar augmentations that make the voice and its simulations indistinguishable from one another in their respective waves of swagger and cheery melody. Meanwhile, warped tones and looping bass melodies lift into the clatter of keys that almost – but not quite – resemble a rhythm in “Swordmanship”. [May 2019, p.59]

But if the technology has moved on, he’s moved with it, and the results are significantly more interesting than what he was up to in the 90s. It feels rural, but modern; rustic, but hardly an idyll; a feat of true uneasy listening. [May 2019, p.51]

From the vantage point of 2019, the Braindance sound has dated slightly--that splattery, all the drums at once style has been rinsed to death by the breakcore hordes. But there’s a sense of homespun whimsy to Raczynski’s music--a sense of the maker behind the machine--and a track like “329 15h”, a simple but artful blend of scalpel-sharp pseudo-junglism and music box melody, proves this music still has an energising effect. [May 2019, p.51]

Third Avenue is less approachable, more problematic [than Dave's Psychodrama]. ... But overall he shows a range Dave should take note of. [May 2019, p.50]

Haley retains the analogue wobble of his earlier work, particularly evident on 2010’s Cyanide Sisters and 2011’s Galactic Melt where his crisp and crunchy beats are at their impactful best. But on Persuasion System he’s combined them with stronger melodies and arrangements, elevating their effect from that of incidental, if still effective background music to the gripping theme of a main character. [May 2019, p.48]

Spellbinding throughout, this music may invite you to check out of the world, but only long enough to help you recover and face it again. [May 2019, p.48]

Explosively powerful, yet resoundingly fragile, her extended vocal technique illuminates an astoundingly rich range of embodied possibility. [Apr 2019, p.64]

LEGACY! LEGACY! is just as much a celebration of Chicago musical talent. ... It also demonstrates Woods’s vast talent as singer and songwriter. [Apr 2019, p.69]

It’s clear he’s still able to switch on a plausible menace when the situation demands. In that balance and his gleefully amateur unretouched singing lies the heart of a great album. [May 2019, p.68]

True to her reputation as an uncompromising force, at no point during Edge Of Everything does Temple show any mercy. [May 2019, p.66]

This 17 track album is the perfect embodiment of the sound and ethos the label has been pushing over the last nine years. [May 2019, p.66]

The strangely Middle Eastern funk they cook up in between their typical lunges and surges, the totally tuneless vocals that end up sounding like some kind of flagellant hiphop and the general sense of bass-heavy groove that locates SMTB closer to Helmet than Fugazi. [May 2019, p.65]

The outcome is a typically serene and spacious deconstruction of concept and melody; a compression, or reduction of a vast palette of reference points, ideas and processes into a remarkably integrated set of movements. [May 2019, p.64]

Pateras is much less dominant in the mix, mostly smouldering beneath the scintillating haze of distortion but occasionally slicing through like white light. Sitting on top of the mix are an assortment of glowing meditation bells played at unexpected intervals, which have the effect of plucking awareness from the dark recesses of sound one could otherwise be pulled all the way into. [May 2019, p.63]

Knowles’s instincts guide the cultural conversation in a way that feels healing, intentional and authentically collectiveminded. A well-constructed spell, cast with intention. [May 2019, p.63]

Empath is extreme in ways that extend beyond aggression or distortion. It’s melodic to the point of overload, layered to the point of obsessiveness. Conventions are disrupted in unexpected ways. ... Which is ugly to you? Which is beautiful? Townsend’s music urges both a thoughtful re-examination of these criteria and a long overdue redefinition of sonic extremity. [May 2019, p.56]

While unconventional, the pairing is astute. [May 2019, p.55]

Confident and resourceful, All Time Present feels more open than its predecessor. [May 2019, p.54

Most of the vocals elsewhere are unintelligible, blurred between endless layers of patchworked echolalia or overlaid with metal grid sheen and a mesh of hissing and crunching, skittering beats far removed from any sense of body based, physically entrained rhythm. But ultimately it’s just a shonkier version of the cut-ups and vocal splices Herndon’s been working with since her 2014 12" Chorus. [May 2019, p.52]

Musically it’s mannered to the point where he makes Stormzy look like Tempa T. Token exceptions offer some respite. On “Location” with Burna Boy and “Disaster” with J Hus he briefly escapes the bland backing and naff counselling concept to explore more primal modes of expression. But ultimately the failures predominate, most notably ten minutes of the heavy handed domestic violence PSA “Lesley”. [May 2019, p.50]

By no means a vintage JJ Cale record, but one with much to enjoy and a fresh chance to hear his songs as he originally heard them. [May 2019, p.48]

Like remembering the loading sound of a ZX Spectrum or the incidental music of Teletext, the feel of these tracks provokes an odd nostalgia for equipment, now superseded and obsolete. [Apr 2019, p.72]

How you feel about the LP will reflect how far you’re into its comic meets splatter trick. It feels sketchy and underdeveloped to me. [Apr 2019, p.68]

Despite being busy, Miri isn’t crowded. Kouyate has returned to a more acoustic sound after the electrified Ba Power, and his ngoni structures the songs with clarity and poise. [Apr 2019, p.68]

With moderately different production, a lot of this would probably sound significantly tougher, but one gets the sense that studio slickness has rendered it a little toothless, blunting what could be a much sharper edge. [Apr 2019, p.68]

Significant Changes is a brilliant album that merges Jayda’s parallel worlds. [Apr 2019, p.65]

The album finds different creative forms in convergence. Efdemin uses the album format to combine audio storytelling with ambient and drone based compositions that tell their own stories. [Apr 2019, p.65]

Gelb’s discordant phrasing and deft wordplay weave gently throughout. At heart, it’s a romantic album about lost moments. [Apr 2019, p.65]

The music resonates with a clarity Treanor had not yet achieved in the past, where the glassy shards of “ATAXIA A2” meet the staggered modulations and condensed hi-hats of “ATAXIA D1”, and ultimately reveal a unique and unexpected humanity. [Apr 2019, p.64]

Forgoing any temptation to portray herself as an alluring curio, Lafawndah instead pushes a singular yet communal vision, processing a blessedly rich vein of cultural information and cutting edge influence. [Apr 2019, p.63]

Cabral’s vocals, typically hushed, make Mazy Fly feel like a shared secret, its own world, and it’s thrilling to enter. [Apr 2019, p.62]