An immensely satisfying album which repays multiple listens. [Jun 2025, p.53]

Keszler’s percussion underpins Coates’s soaring cello as Laurel Halo ensures the combination stays orderly. Its calm melancholy reflects the quoted text that ends: “Need little. Want less. Forget the rules. Be untroubled.” [Aug 2018, p.67]

Pop hooks and club-ready rhythms warp with bubblegum plasticity from track to track, never repeating but luxuriating in the excess of their own ideas. [Apr 2023, p.66]

Another Life captures the ecstacy and catharsis of bodies exchanging sweat and petrol, crushing each other in unison. [Oct 2018, p.48]

Throughout her third album The Hollow, Forsyth hardly needs to name her emotions, using her voice to communicate them purely in terms of depth, size and shade. [Dec 2024, p.46]

Cale is producing involving, forward-moving music that still capable of catching you unawares. [Oct 2012, p.58]

These recent realisations of Ono’s scores by that flexible collective sound remarkably current and fresh. [May 2025, p.53]

Chrystia Cabral follows up her 2021 prog meets chamber pop album The Turning Wheel with an unexpected but delightful mash-up of late 1990s radio sounds. [Jun 2025, p.60]

Crescent’s first album in a decade is certainly a memoir, and one as evocative and impressionistic as you might expect, where the fall of sunlight on a window or a late-night touring mishap--“I’m opening up the van/And the cymbals crash/All across the street/In the clear night” (“I’m Not Awake”)--stay lodged in the heart and mind far longer than any 12" release. [Jun 2017, p.69]

Kate NV’s sense of play works at a deep grammatical level, particularly in her witty inversions of scale. Small sounds, squeaks, blips and twinkles are inflated into starring roles; boices are shrunk to decorative background shimmers. As with The Pastels, Haruomi Hosono or Pierre Bastien, WOW reminds you that playtime deserves serious attention. [Apr 2023, p.67]

At least the fusion here doesn’t have the overly respectful politeness of similar multinational projects, with the guitar noise and roaring likembes providing aural grit. By the middle of the record, though, the shorter studio tracks shine with low-key brilliance. [May 2022, p.44]

Suffice to say that future, past and present are safe in the hands of 700 Bliss. [Jun 2022, p.47]

It has an ethereal, cosmic beauty that in less accomplished hands could be mawkish, but here feels almost miraculous. The whole album feels like an invitation to think alongside it about the end of life – and in these moments typically characterised by fear and isolation, to feel accompanied by anything at all is an unusual and precious thing. [May 2025, p.62]

The album progresses through tastefully understated melancholy and rage to a clutch of pop songs whose assured emo posturing melts into cries for salvation so exquisite they’re undeniable. [Jun 2021, p.64]

We Are King is a lush, dynamic, and expertly crafted album that constructs a unique soundworld. [May 2016, p.50]

Both Ishibashi and O'Rourke have spent lifetimes devoted to improvisation, and even if they only pick up a conventional instrument here and there on Pareidolia, the magic they weave on computers is no less spontaneous. [Oct 2024, p.54]

Digital Garbage is an honest and oddly selfless document of the time, impressively free from bravado. [Oct 2018, p.59]

The album’s 78 minutes include ample shimmering prettiness and strafing digital energy, with only minimal concessions to anyone who would prefer one or the other.

Guerilla builds upon constant percussive propulsions, creating a frenzy that doesn’t overbear with political weight and favours a sense of catharsis even through the darkest moments of Angola’s history. [May 2020, p.56]

One can’t help but be in awe of the production mastery on display and the confidence with which Matmos have turned a man’s creative remains into a freshly expressive musical instrument. [Jun 2022, p.51]

What emerges is a futuristic and dystopian vision, but it’s also something primal. There’s a human pulse, trapped in the heart of all the noise. You hold your breath and wait for it to collapse, and for the carbine rifles to come. [Sep 2018, p.57]

Her craft comes through more strongly on For My Crimes. It therefore takes a little longer to appreciate that the song structures are just as acutely developed as on her previous two albums. Despite its lyrical themes of romantic suffocation and nostalgia, and its allusions to domestic violence, For My Crimes is steady and unwavering. [Oct 2018, p.59]

Easily Hud-Mo's best work yet. [Aug 2011, p.67]

Yowzers is Gay’s most cohesive work to date, while losing none of its predecessors’ spirit of adventure. [Jul 2025, p.59]

Though it’s no concept album, eight of the 12 tracks address either social issues or spiritual solutions. There’s the odd Prince bit of obscure esoterica but mostly it’s direct and effective. ... Welcome 2 America is vital enough to render such matters moot. it’s the sound of Prince truly not giving a damn and that should be edge enough for anybody. [Sep 2021, p.70]

Don’t Look Away is an even tighter proposition, the majority of its songs being sparsely but sensitively arranged and melodically direct. [Sep 2018, p.62]

The power of Sumac’s work has always been in the intersection between power and precision, raw crunch driven and inch perfect percussive pummel. The same precision exists here, the same balance between onslaught and lull, the murky ambiguities surrounded by crystal clear volleys of sculpted noise. [Jul 2024, p.60]

A strong late career release. [Oct 2018, p.63]