There might appear to be a hodge-podge mish-mash of genres here, with artist credits ranging from U.K. funk producer Lil Silva to hip-hop’s heady Ghostpoet (who’s Season Change with Doucoura is another album stand-out), but the blending of these somewhat disparate sounds is seamless.

While Divine Ecstasy may not satisfy all your experimentally complex tastebuds, it will satisfy some of them, mostly because it does so much.

While the production and moodiness of the record are strong, the emotion that made much of their previous records such a pleasure has been a bit sapped.

July’s strongest points come when Nadler has the most room to stretch her vocal muscles.

Altogether, it’s some irresistible glitter-on-the dancefloor delirium.

On record, there is an irresistible sprightliness in the songs that says these guys haven’t worried once about their near-tribute sound.

Even though After The Disco lacks some boldness and experimentation, the record most definitely has its strong moments and, like its predecessor, it’ll please fans from either party who will most likely feel content from the first listen.

Thee Silver Mt. Zion Orchestra’s proto-punk only gets better with age and maturity, but Fuck Off Get Free We Pour Light On Everything believes that today’s youth are everything for tomorrow.

Through it all, the energy and attitude is unchanged. And although the band’s themes seem even more specifically focused, this album is really for anyone who’s ever felt held back.

The Dap-Kings prove once again to be an almost mind-bogglingly crisp backing band, with tickingly taught percussion, sticky bass lines and sweat-inducing brass. But it’s Jones, of course, who holds together every song with her now-classic vox.

Haze proves that she can write, rap and sing really well.

For all the cutesieness that can subsume this sub-genre, it’s refreshing to see a band that can play it with a little R’n’R swagger and not just as a set-up for condescending kvetching and pink-hued album covers.

Much as it is a thrash-and-burn album, the self-titled release also hints at subtly sensitive undertones.

This EP, while a little inconsistent with the “usual” sound that a club record should have, speaks volumes of the deftness that Halo possesses.

This is why Blue Rider is so enjoyable: even while it pulls you in, you’ll still feel like you’re listening to it alone. That might sound like an aloof move by Cale, but it’s really just an expression of that feeling that comes with being en route.

And things simmer along just fine like that right ’til the end with 3 Seconds To Cross, a breezy, snare rim-tapping rumination on sunny California.

The trio proves it has a fat bag of tricks: floaty fast rhymes (Get’n Drunk), high gravity boom bap (Troublesome) and haunting alien lullabies (Nobody). But the fact that it’s Earl Sweatshirt’s heavy-lidded guest verse in Cold World that’s still stuck in my head probably means MellowHigh still has a few kinks to work out.

Surrender To The Fantasy is a reminder that Magik Markers is sort of an absurdist band at heart, willing to moon their audience and then have an intellectual conversation about it.

Despite some loopier diversions, DeGraw’s solo flight is more precise than GGD, and the appeal of his technicolor melodies rely on that cleaner simplicity.

Detroyer missteps are rare, and while Five Spanish Songs won’t go down as one of his most memorable albums (even the title implies this is a somewhat tossed-off diversion), it shows that he can continue to take risks and create albums that both placate and challenge his listeners.

The only mild complaint would be that some tracks feel a little too long (even for the genre) and sometimes a tad repetitive.

This impatience turns into a tension, and this tension is what allows for ten tracks of what are essentially love ballads to remain interesting after repeated listens.

A little more daylight would balance out the vibe. But that’s a minor complaint. In fact, on further listens it becomes the album’s appeal.

Fulvimar has, all at once, figured out what works and built up the self-assurance to do just that.

Frustratingly, the album’s lowest point comes directly after one of its high points.... That’s not to say that Surfing Strange isn’t impressive as a whole.

Matangi‘s top moments aren’t riddled with thumping bass or explosive mania. They are steady builds, relatively simple and not of a too specific trend moment, plus they have feeling.

YT // ST is not subtle, yet it’s still simultaneously visceral and generally accessible, while maintaining its unique voice.

It’s stickily saccharine with spiky edges.