The overall effect is that of a mutated being, inexplicably functional but undeniably alive, slowly making sense of the alien world in which it finds itself. [Dec 2021, p.44]

Gay’s latest is a deep dive into memory but emerges as a triumphant celebration of a past and future antilineage, uniquely conjured from the inner complexities of an artist not tortured by the past but possessed by it. [Dec 2021, p.50]

The addition of Morgane Diet’s seraphic vocals provides an emotional access point, filtering a grand cosmic aesthetic into a relatable and human scale. [Nov 2021, p.64]

One of 2021’s most impressive and poignant examples of progressive rock? Damn the torpedoes, let’s go with that. [Nov 2021, p.62]

A polished affair which approaches doom metal with something like a pop sensibility – the melodies bring to mind Deftones or the accessible end of UK bands like Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, though Esfandiari’s strain of gothic gloom, for all its theatricality, feels less superficial and more the product of genuine internal turmoil. [Nov 2021, p.62]

Pungent and atmospheric. [Nov 2021, p.62]

It would be very hard to see Y In Dub as completing the project of taking dub into white punk, but taken on their own, separate terms these tracks are deep and engrossing explorations of a set of possibilities few others have dabbled with. [Nov 2021, p.57]

The gauzy textures that she creates on New Decade do capture something of crystalline stasis. It’s only the rhythmical structure of the “Snow And Pollen” – two electronic pulses that sound, one, two, one, two – that connotes a diffuse sense of menace. [Nov 2021, p.57]

The 20 minute centrepiece “Water Meditation” is a startlingly realised suite of wonder that flows from fragmentary shards of sax, voice and synths to stealthy dubby menace through to a collage of impacted noise and shattered beats that’s one of the most emotionally affecting delineations and reimaginings of resistant Black art you’re likely to hear in 2021. Essential listening, and the same can be said for Open The Gates as a whole. [Nov 2021, p.53]

There’s a lot to wrap your ears and brain around, and it can make a strange load of sense if you allow yourself to be carried away by its relentless stream. [Nov 2021, p.52]

At over 22 minutes, it’s ["The Offender"] one of two side-long pieces and could just as easily have gone on for an hour, or all night. ... The short pieces are just as good as the long ones. [Nov 2021, p.52]

It’s darkly, powerfully feminine, exquisitely produced and haunted as fuck; maybe the best record she’s ever made. [Nov 2021, p.50]

Written on a piano and organ instead of guitar and featuring a 24-piece ensemble of strings, winds and brass, -io is the purest realisation of Fohr’s pop sensibilities. [Nov 2021, p.50]

With the stylistic anchor lifted, the 12 cuts sound progressively more deranged as they blossom into alien dance floor mutants from bubbles of heady synths, deliriously processed voices, absurd squiggles and reversed beats. ... It’s difficult to imagine a better debut for ex-DFA head Jonathan Galkin’s new imprint FourFour. [Nov 2021, p.48]

There’s a heavy Eddie Henderson vibe here, propulsive, warm and engaging, and by the time the album closes on the jagged street vignette of its title track, it’s evident that BBNG have gone back to find a new future, a new lease of life. [Nov 2021, p.48]

DJ Seinfeld’s new album is clean, crisp and emotional but irresistibly danceable. Parts of it recall Jessy Lanza, other parts Throwing Snow and Dark Sky. He became known via the lo-fi trend a few years back but Mirrors is more indicative of a welcome garage revival. [Oct 2021, p.59]

If anything, she has rediscovered the energy that defined her work with Uzi, Live Skull and Come, pouring imposing defiance into ten rocking cuts. [Oct 2021, p.58]

The self-titled release is (indie) rock at its most exuberant, positive and loving. [Oct 2021, p.58]

Polyphonic chants mesh with distorted piano hits and percussive clatter in an ecstasy of derision and judgment, before turning into a righteous roar. [Oct 2021, p.58]

Topped off with signature twin guitar harmonies, the album is often a blast, if a bit unbalanced overall. [Oct 2021, p.58]

At the heart of the album is a propensity for pop, memorable and simple – but Vanishing Twin are at their strongest when this impulse collides with an equally powerful drive towards texture and sensation – witness the propulsive “In Cucina” for example, or the furtive “Tub Erupt”. [Oct 2021, p.56]

The beginning of the record is slow – “News About Heaven” feels aimless, while the repeating melody of “Pray For Rain” gets tedious after its third or fourth time through – but with “Something Will Come”, the album’s ominous depth comes to light, ushering in a nostalgia that permeates through the final tracks and illuminates the depth of the duo’s sound. [Oct 2021, p.55]

More than a covers album, this is a cathartic reminder of pop’s revolutionary power. [Oct 2021, p.55]

The core line-up of guitarist Buzz Osbourne and drummer Dale Crover, along with the recent addition of Steven McDonald from Redd Kross on bass, attack the vast catalogue of songs with great zeal while making sure to confound the masses in the way we somehow expect. [Oct 2021, p.51]

Much like Mantronix, Injury Reserve’s strengths lie in their overall freshness, and the way they play with and reinforce hiphop’s borders. Phoenix is full of post-genre dynamics. ... Phoenix is a punch-drunk affair that finds Injury Reserve hurtling forward with a determined anguish. [Oct 2021, p.49]

With this stripped-back suite, HTRK demonstrate such alchemy – achieving dramatic tension and emotive resonance from skeletal means. [Oct 2021, p.49]

As always Harris’s dedication to using a small spectrum of sounds to convey a wide range of emotions is noteworthy. Shade is another stunning piece of work – after all these years, Harris still makes it easier for some of us to get to know ourselves. [Oct 2021, p.48]

Retaining his passion and knowledge for psychedelic music in all its multifarious shifting forms, together with a long incubated yearning to steer his guitar sound in the direction of Jimi Hendrix, on Little Eden Saloman intermittently flashes back and storms straight ahead with a honed set of crafted songs and short-fused acid/garage rock explosions. [Sep 2021, p.62]