Pangaea Ultima is a cleaner, sprawling affair, but one lacking the ingenuity of some of Moore's more esoteric works.

On their debut, Museum of Love have created a tight debut that seems more interested in its primal appeal than it does its cognitive.

With a few of its tracks trimmed off, No No could have made a great EP, but as it stands, it's equal parts fun and frustration.

Although Slay-Z's flat lyrics might be a little uninspiring for the sober listener, its vigorous beats and dizzying pace are perfect for settings that require more moving and less thinking.

Tthe net effect is ultimately an uninspired collection of tracks that do little to offer a close listener anything new.

This collaborative album, It's Hard for Me to Say I'm Sorry, casually sits somewhere in the middle between tonal ambience and noisy dissonance.

The New Abnormal is not a bad record, but it is a frustrating one, made by a band that feels pulled in a dozen different directions.

Goodman remains a sharp and confident songwriter, and buried underneath the noise there's still plenty of charm here, but dialing back all the bluster would have gone a long way.

Rather than phoning in the record fans expect, AC/DC made one that suits their own needs.

The tech-house producer has attempted to cultivate his dusty electro landscapes, leaving the listener with seven hearty compositions built upon loose and fertile groundwork.

American Nightmare is not convincing or consistent.

There's nothing here we haven't heard done better somewhere else. Sum 41 can and have done better.

Unfortunately, the band play it safe on No Coast.

There are admittedly some palatable textures here, an inevitability given the roster of talent, but so much of it is obfuscated in genre confusion and poor arrangements.

Using the album as a full-length thesis on the blending of Berlin and Manchester sounds causes Living With Ghosts to feel rather analogous and tedious, at times.

Throwaways make the ten-song album feel low on substantial ideas: there's enough material here for a solid EP, but it's rather thin for a full-length. Still, as a modestly enjoyable throwback to 2006, it gets the job done.

Glass represents Hunn's most mature musical sensibilities to date; however, the instrumentation throughout the album is so sporadic and indecisive that it's unclear what its ideal listening setting might be.

Clocking in at just over 30 minutes, it doesn't overstay its welcome, but unfortunately it gives up most of its best moments by the halfway point.

Where Wake in Fright felt lean and energetic, The Long Walk is bloated and tired, not so much a fulfilling, purposeful exercise as a slow crawl to nowhere in particular.

Smalhans is an enjoyable listen, though it's creatively limited when compared to Lindstrøm's previous work, not providing much more to the listener than a feel-good album.

Five Spanish Songs is satisfying enough for its 20-minute runtime, but it definitely lacks the heft of his recent work; without his distinctive lyrics, it doesn't really feel like proper Destroyer.

The songs--though sparely produced as usual--sound picked over, like they've been played too many times and have lost their fire.

The cut-and-paste bursts here are beautiful, but they're few and far between.

Animal Races is an homage to a bygone era, and a terrific one at that, so while it's far more influenced than it could ever be influential, it does have the potential to inspire sentimentality among those who lived through the era to which it devotes itself.

Unfortunately, Keith is treated to some friendly fire here, as most of his cohorts outshine him.

On Calling from the Stars, Miss Kittin's ambition comes off as both a blessing and hindrance; it's a cycle of ideas that unendingly feel very close to wearing out its welcome.

There are great moments that fulfil expectations of Jesu as a dissolving whirlpool bath of glass shards, but these flashes don't carry the full weight of the album.

While these eight tracks rarely involve an epiphany either narratively or musically, their anecdotal nature is a reminder that not every story has an ending, and that the memories that stick with us are often the ones we don't fully understand.