Slow Focus has the sheen and seemingly high stakes of a blockbuster movie--and enough easy thrills to compensate for the stakes being, in reality, pretty low.

Personality is less a cohesive statement than a scattered reflection of the experimental process that's come to define Scuba's output in the new decade.

Thankfully, most of Hauschildt's eight-track LP further explores the sounds and themes that made Tragedy & Geometry the brilliant record it is.

Rinse Presents: Royal-T is a solid full-length debut for the budding producer, and radiates a certain charm through its sincere portrayal of new grime as a versatile genre that's able to cater to a variety of listeners.

Despite what its title might imply, The Keychain Collection feels very cohesive, more like a planned progression than a mere combination of tunes.

Minor complaints aside, Beams is a solid record, and a pretty good Dear album is nothing to be upset about.

Dream On finds him utilizing the computer-processed end of his sound with a newly savage intensity.

An effortless, catatonic undercurrent carries listeners through Her Blurry Pictures and somehow, it manages to put the subliminal neuroticism of Mathew Jonson's music at the center of the listening experience while remaining pleasant to listen to.

Occasional lyrical missteps aside, Arrington's voice sounds as smooth as ever on this album, which is great, although it does overshadow Dam-Funk's significant vocal talent.

Perhaps realizing that it's divisive and reductive to only dabble in one or the other, SMD opts for a satisfactory middle ground in its live sets, rearranging the pair's accessible pop moments as skeletal reincarnations of themselves.

When a dance album cannot contain a grander narrative, the next best result is certainly a selection of floor-primed productions, and on this front, Orbiting delivers.

While it's engaging, tantalizing and consistently interesting, it tests the listener by wading through a foliage of field recordings and mouth harps to get to its core, requiring an effort which can potentially get wearying at times.

Call it whatever you want-Barnett and his bandmates are just getting started with their musical experiments.

While Power exhibits his range in mood and melody on this self-titled debut, one can't help but wonder how much the album could have benefited from even the smallest touch of the rhythms that give his other outfit its vibrant energy.

As it is now, John Wizards is an effortlessly fun, pan-global pop record that stands on its own, no qualification needed.

Some lo-fi purists will undoubtedly cry foul when they hear "The Longest Shadows" or "When It Comes," which bookend the album with slightly glossier production and an '80s goth-disco vibe that recalls Siouxsie and The Banshees or The Church. These tracks, along with "On Giving Up" and "Constant Winter," undeniably signal High Places' shift toward a more accessible sound, but they also happen to be some of the brightest spots on the album.

The album might not have quite enough Flying Lotus for some, and a little too much Aloe Blacc for others, but it has just enough Georgia Anne Muldrow to be another worthy entry into the catalog of a truly gifted musician.

All in all, the full 30 minutes of Kuiper seems logical as a comfortable extension of, and compromise between, Shepherd's recent discography: as he continues to unravel the additional possibilities of live instrumentalism, we can be sure to expect plenty more of the same.

Field-Pickering isn't yet the type to release a grand album statement, but so far, his best moments have been the monolithic ones. Now, it's just a matter of amassing enough of them for a long-player.

It takes a few notable risks in composition and rhythmic style, but as is evident from the title, this isn't the new Machinedrum album.

III is a pleasant--although occasionally forgettable--listen from a seasoned artist who is playing to his strengths.

The pair has also hit on what makes the bass-music hybrid so alluring; by connecting the dots between various club-music genres, Nguzunguzu continues to invite more people of different tastes to share in the experience.

Drone Logic is a fastidious and memorable debut, though the middle suffers from a significant lull in energy.

Raffertie by and large stays out of the way of his songwriting, and opts for subtlety over bombast--an asset that eludes many songwriters.

While not as complete or precise as any major release from Hot Chip, this is a strong debut album, even after factoring in the slightly elevated expectations based upon Goddard's previous successes.

The band now has the command of this organic/synthetic versatility in its toolbelt, often using it to find an ideal balance between highly finessed electronic soundscapes and bouts of raw, physical musicianship.

Nothing feels forced or amplified for impact. It’s a humble and understated sound and one that endears me to her as a human. The tracks and the overall narrative are succinct, though I wished the trip was longer. When the album finished I was compelled to play it through again.

One of Paper Tiger's finest qualities is its ability to include a diverse list of contributors who provide just the right formula of loops, dub beats, and samples to the album without making it seem bloated.

The new record doesn't quite live up to its predecessor, but its middle third is especially strong.

Although it may not represent a complete return to form, it's still a welcome stop on a production career that appears to have a lot of life left in it.

Whether or not one buys into Menzies' unrelentingly bleak vision, it's hard not to admire how well he captures the mood.

It's hard to knock Aguayo's unique spirit, and the boldness with which that shines through on this LP is certainly captivating in its own right.

The watery guitar parts of All the Way remain, rolled up into gritty, more linear drum-machine rhythms that occasionally give way to the serene drone of Growing's earlier years.

Track after track of nostalgia-inducing pastiche that, though a bit self-referential—they're almost dance tracks about dance tracks--somehow sound fresh. They’re effective both as exercises in the power of memory and as compelling club cuts in their own right.

Light Asylum is the product of two very talented purists whose focus on a particularly stylish bygone era has actually surpassed its roots to sound unexpectedly modern.

There’s a widescreen vibe to these tracks; with their patient, sometimes nearly imperceptible cycles of accretion and subsidence, they feel as much like landscapes as they do music. But they’re vistas that have been internalized and made personal, and that process--along with the calm majesty of the songs--is the source of Phantom Brickworks emotional sweep.

The LP is merely the byproduct of Barnes steadily refining his intricate and very particular sound.

Shlohmo's "debut" LP arrives slightly bloated due to its own blind ambition, and might require a few taps of the skip button for a more rewarding listen.

It’s the DJ’s own efforts that are the most striking, yet this mix isn’t about big tracks per se; it's more about building a lost-in-the-moment mood. In that, it succeeds tremendously, and offers an intriguing glimpse at a new chapter in Daniel Avery’s story.

Wenu Wenu's success lies in its ability to cleave memorable passages from homogenized surroundings.

As with all of his records, Eight takes on a slightly different shape than anything before it, further solidifying the man's reputation as a producer capable of continuing to refine his techniques while landing on new and powerful ideas with each release.

Enthusiast is a solid, eclectic offering, and, if it truly is Siriusmo's last, it's not a bad way to end a long career.

12 Bit Blues is an enjoyable record and an exciting addition to Kid Koala's catalog.

In all honesty, New Chain isn't so very different from the rest of the Bushwick bulk. What is worth returning to, however, is the fact that the music offered is effortlessly lovely, memorable, well-transitioned, and oddly addicting.

Release is an impressive feat overall, one that offers up a handful of uniquely dancefloor-ready tracks while continuing to show that Pangaea and Hessle are not likely to fall behind the cutting edge of dance music anytime soon.

Comfort won't be for everyone, but it's hard to argue that the risks Coles has taken don't pay off. If nothing else, it's certainly fascinating to watch her expand her aesthetic beyond the dancefloor.

Mohn is not a cheeky effort, nor is it pop or minimal.

It's a safe bet that Steffi had some form of master plan in mind when giving guidance to the mix’s artists, who are largely plucked from her deep pool of electronic-music pals. Still, it’s an impressive achievement.

Neon Indian's second album is a collection of more serious and straightforward pop tunes that separate his penchants for the past and its oddities, and shed nearly all trademarks of the dubious genre he haphazardly pioneered.

Elemental Themes is a great movie soundtrack--the film just doesn't exist yet.

hat’s most striking is that the album really does tell a story. Its glorious conclusion arrives a little too soon, but it’s good enough to have you hitting rewind. Listen in a dark room, on headphones, and you’re likely to experience a few hairs-on-end moments. It’s ugly, yes, and sometimes contrived. But it’s beautiful too.

Clocking in at a breezy 37 minutes, Mount Kimbie's second album feels a bit slight by the time it's finished, though not because it's short on great ideas or compelling tunes.

Spaces is still a wonderful document of the powerful force that Nils Frahm is as a performer. At the same time, the album in some ways seems like a missed opportunity--no one has questioned the man's ability as a live act (quite the opposite, actually), so the record can't help coming off like a bit of a "gimme."

The angst and abrasiveness inherent to Adult. is still present in some form (even a quick look at track names like "Nothing Lasts," "At the End of It All," and "Heartbreak" reveals that much), but the band has undoubtedly smoothed things over and pushed its sound closer to the dancefloor.

His LNT is a soothing, calming mix for music lovers and night owls, with a human touch that’s impossible to replicate.

The Rapture's latest is both a welcome and necessary addition to its relatively small discography, a record the band should be both proud of and content to leave as the final chapter of its existence. At least until they come back again.

Fabriclive 93 might not be flawless--but it sure is fun.

It's the defiantly weird edges that make Compass cohere.

Nostalgic is an exciting journey, but during the moments when Lapalux fails to provide a coherent roadmap, it's a bit too easy for the rest of us to get lost.

Backwater, is a further refinement of their sound, fleshing it out and blanketing it with a gauzy patina that’s almost intrinsically appealing.

Considering Saul's reputation and pedigree, crafting a largely non-dancefloor album under a pseudonym is a brave move, but one that Getting Closer arguably vindicates.

It has style and character, it's both puzzling and gratifying, and above all, it's filled with solid tunes.

Perhaps the album's only major drawback is its lack of jaw-dropping "wow" moments. It's as though 100% Publishing is almost a little too consistent.

Ultimately, the restless movement here doesn't help the "classical" tracks connect to a non-specialized audience, but it does make for an inventive dialogue between the club and the ivory tower.

One of the album's strong points is the balance it confidently finds between active and passive, as if it's encouraging listeners to be aware of their attention drifting between their thoughts and the spacious terrain provided by the music.

All of these seemingly fragmented entries would be rather disappointing were it not for the fact that they are all brought together in one final movement-a continuous DJ mix. It's like an 'aha' moment; without it, Hermansen's concept wouldn't successfully come together.

Home's biggest problem is that it can easily drift by almost unnoticed.

What holds this album back is a lack of direction and the vision necessary to pull his intelligent, melodic techno into a new musical landscape.

It's not an album about any particular time; instead, it's an album about the passage of time And time always marches on.

White Hills have struck a riveting balance between heaviness and ethereality while proving space rock can still stimulate four decades after its Big Bang.

It would be a stretch to call Until the Quiet Comes' disjointed tracklist and middling retreads the low point of Ellison's discography, but suffice it to say that the LA cornerstone has produced far more challenging and consistent records than this.

For those on the outside of that process, fans who are frantically trying to connect the missing links of Iradelphic's lineage with its beloved forefathers, more apt descriptors might be "unexpected," "unfamiliar," and "unfulfilling."

While it presents many tracks worth praise, it lacks the masterful touch that made Routes such an instant standout.

There's no question that Torn Hawk is carving his own, art-damaged lane, but unfortunately, Let's Cry is not the defining statement of his aesthetic.

Take Off Mode doesn’t forge any new paths so much as it retreads old ones. ... That said, Take Off Mode’s most retro moment is also its best.

Planet High School is obviously not perfect, nor should it be, but it is a step upwards and onwards for Mux Mool.

For those interested in zany experimentalism, Black Dice's latest is a welcome addition to a long line of solid releases, but for those who have never been awed by this brand of cacophony, Mr. Impossible offers little besides noise.

Stone Breaker is the foundation of E building something new and completely different: an intense, head-down, relentless edifice of original, modern house music.

The project as a whole is impressive, but it's a testament to Gonzales that his music holds up to the grand scope of his endeavor.

Overly cool and polished music for graphic designers this isn't--but its twisted art-school aesthetics might mean it's too out there for the candy kids as well.

Altogether, Gordian is a solid listen and another LP that upholds Cosmin TRG's deserved reputation as an inventive producer whose output continues to remain dependable.

With the lyrical talent she shows in places here, the more Noname challenges herself--the deeper she delves into her own mind--the more fascinating, stimulating, and thought-provoking her music will become.

Illum Sphere's debut LP may be an elegantly produced collection of noir beat vignettes, but his next one could be a whole lot more.

You can definitely hear her thinking her way through each track, treating each as packets of sound, to be observed and experienced in a loop.

As a series, Pop Ambient may gradually be losing its vitality, but its musical perspective does not have to. Moving forward, an adjustment to the delivery platform would do much to make Pop Ambient's sound more relevant.

While the duo proves to have an able hand at constructing reflective, chilled-out, or pleasant vibes, the record's darker and more brooding auras come up a little short.

Going Places has the feel of a ghost bearing down on you, and the only comfort it offers lies in the fact that it feels a lot like being alive right now.

Desecration of Desire is still built on everything that Dave Clarke has created to date, but the hardness is gone; and if you look close enough, you might be able to find the soft exterior he’s trying to show.

The obvious influences lend more to remembering old favorites than to finding new ones, yet Dinowalrus' album should appeal to fans of no-wave's vintage aesthetic.

Its blander additions aside, more often than not, Woolfy vs. Projection's latest proves to be a refreshing recess from the dancefloor, a lazy LP recorded in the Northern California woods that's as cozy as it is otherworldly.

Chorus is not quite clinical, but it's getting there.

Centralia, for the most part, goes back to the duo's tried-and-true dynamics for a seemingly exhaustive summary of the band.

The production is immaculately pretty, but it also tends to swamp the music's thrust, and one ends the album unsure of exactly what Darkstar is anymore.

Van Hoesen does leave some room for improv, but it's a bit too low-key to feel like anything's at stake.

A cursory listen to The North Borders may give a "been there done that" impression at points, but a closer listen reveals just how much he's carefully pushing his own boundaries.

Plaid's sixth proper studio album, Scintilli, is hard to place stylistically, but nonetheless offers plenty of enjoyable head-scratching moments, along with a straight-up tune or two.

In the end, his attempt to tackle the alienating, intense feelings related to this subject turns out to not only be insightful and emotional, but oddly graceful as well.

Only a handful of Replicant Moods' tracks make a lasting impression, but this foursome still consistently gets the entropy-to-pattern ratio just right.