Although imperfect, The Electric Lady is a huge statement.

At its core, Long.Live.A$AP succeeds because it lets Rocky be Rocky: a rapper with a unique voice and an ear for captivating beats whose lyrical shortcomings can be glossed over with healthy servings of charisma and panache.

The album’s electronic feel sharpens the idea of sterility and a frictionless modern life, while providing, as British electronica has done since the days of John Foxx, a lexicon for existential nothingness.

Faced with trying to communicate a feeling as raw as lost love, he too has reached for the cliches. They may be banal and apparently devoid of sincerity, but for Blunt, they capture our inability to say what we mean or mean what we say in these strange, post-ideological times.

Rich and disorientating, KOCH accesses a different pace of life--or rather several, bewilderingly, all at once.

It's not without faults, but overall it's a undoubtedly a very welcome gift.

Bécs is seldom unapproachable; it’s also his style to leave just enough beauty poking through the seams.

As a portrait of a city, and a person, Acid Rap is about as good--and as honest--as they come.

Total Loss is a largely dud-free album.

Rather than the stunt-casting found in some dance-pop albums, the vocalists here exist intrinsically and organically in the songs, their vocals weaved into the fabric rather than simply wearing it.

Space Zone keeps the bar propped up impressively high without treading back over old ground.

For music that is over 15 years old, Back on Time sounds as fresh as a sitar-wielding half-stepping daisy.

Drums are present, but they often function as little more than pensive timekeepers. All the better to frame those tunes – artful, delicate things, rarely saying more or less than they need to.

To praise To Rococo Rot can be to undersell them; their most attractive qualities, their sense of minimalism and simplicity and concision, are hardly the sort of things you bellow from rooftops. And yet, it works, and beautifully.

For a record that wears its retro influences so openly, Psychic is surprisingly forward-thinking.

Steam Days is a worthwhile--if slightly unseasonal--listen.

It just is: mindless, unfathomable--a little like the digital fracas of our online lives.

Personality's not a start-to-finish winner like Glass Swords was, but it's refreshing and gratifying to hear Scuba step out from the shadow of the Berghain and dreary discussions of the "dubstep-techno crossover", and start to release some music that sounds like it was fun to make.

Ticks all the boxes you'd expect of retro-futurist cosmic disco – chugging italo basslines, chunky synths, ridiculous arpeggios, crashing guitars straight outta Miami Vice – but it's the way they're put together that elevates it into more interesting and original territorry.

It's an interesting change of direction, and arguably a good one too.

While certainly not the most sincere album around, nevertheless there is ingrained in its tireless activity a genuine passion to fight the loneliness of intelligence, of neurotic shyness--to fight an inability to connect with people, that condition exacerbated in the era of social media.

Unwanted Chris Brown presence aside, All Of Me is a coherent, concise album that--hearteningly--is most characterised by its creator's overflowing wells of confidence.

On 1989, she makes mountains out of molehills, but this approach feels one part the ironic distance of the digital generation, one part sincere embracing of the impact of life’s speedbumps. Nothing could be more 2014.

It makes for an excellent debut in whatever style you want to call it.

Untogether is a well executed record, but not a stunning one.

Silver Cloud may be unfocused at times, but itʼs also a terrific feat of conflicting textures and moods, marrying crackly scuzziness and poetic timbres with ease.

No Better Time Than Now is both musically rich and emotionally open, and it’ll be interesting to see where Shigeto takes his sound next.

As an artistic step forward, Les Sins certainly registers.