[A] Collection of gorgeous, gossamer-light vignettes. [Jun 2018, p.114]

Fiskal takes bold, divisive ideas and makes us wonder why we’d ever question them in the first place--and that’s the highest compliment we can pay him. [Jun 2018, p.120]

Textures plough and pound throughout the album, revealing yet another new, unclassifiable side of OPN's musical brain as he brings more disparate sounds to the fore. [Jun 2018, p.115]

There are only nine tracks in all, with pieces such as the mesmerising ‘Boids’ and the blissful ‘Glider’ less focused on the floor. It ensures you never feel like the same tricks are being repeated, and the power of those mellifluous voices never wanes. [Jun 2018, p.114]

An extraordinary talent at the top of her game. [Jun 2018, p.113]

Here, psychedelically hypnotic robot incantations weave through ambient soundscapes and piercing synths to brain-frying effect. [Jun 2018, p.113]

It veers between intimate and expansive: the chugging rhythms replicate the hum of America’s love affair with the automobile, while majestic, sweeping strings evoke its grand, widescreen vistas. [Jun 2018, p.112]

Hopkins uses his dancefloor nous, classical background and meditative training to beguile us. It's a beautiful bastard of a record. [May 2018, p.117]

As you might guess, it’s not all fun and games, but there’s bone-dry lyrical wit and absolute clarity of voice (no guest spots!)--and its understanding of bleep and bass tonality gives it instant appeal. [May 2018, p.116]

He's arguably produced his near-masterpiece LP. [May 2018, p.114]

These 12 pieces of crackling, thrumming electro, dub, techno and other less-definable rhythms are held together by a certain warmth, a love of the crisp sounds that make them up, and by adherence to the groove. [Apr 2018, p.92]

The emotional impact is concentrated in each and every tune, and the whole album manages to achieve a genuinely epic scope in under 40 minutes. [Apr 2018, p.92]

A pretty heady blend of neo-soul, funk, jazz, boom bap and house, but overall things veer a little too close to the vanilla here. [Apr 2018, p.91]

Occasionally it's awkward, but for the most part it shows there's still plenty of life in the old Head yet. [Apr 2018, p.91]

This is a strong, sometimes truly beautiful, maturation of Avery’s work as a producer.

Who Are You? shuttles between Honolulu and Jamaica as he splices lap steel guitar and rim shots, before spinning off into Chris Brann-style deep house on ‘Endless Sundays’. Things get even more somnambulant on the dubby ‘Gravity Waves’, which threatens to keel over at any minute.

The dark, incendiary electronica of Mr Dynamite harking back to the anything-goes post-punk aesthetic of the late 70s. The work of Benge, Tuung’s Phil Winter, Cabaret Voltaire frontman Stephen Mallinder and everyone’s favourite mellifluous alt-crooner, John Grant, they ensure the record never stands still.

The music is more emotive, the confidence sharper, the production bolder. ... All That Must Be is going to be lodged into key craniums for the rest of 2018.

The whole album drips with a palpable sense of lust and intensity.

Too often--as on ‘The Last Of Goodbyes’, with its limp rap and doleful Burialisms--it sounds like Moby pastiching his old self. On the flip side, ‘Welcome To Hard Times’, a sunny Balearic soul shuffle, is lovely, and the ghostly piano haunting ‘The Tired And The Hurt’ contains the muscle memory of his masterpiece ‘Porcelain’, but they’re isolated sparkles.

Millennial inertia is a target--see ‘It’s All Good’ and ‘Nobody Cares’--but their bite is balanced with blear and bounce in equal measure.

Steffi appears totally in control on an album that’s an important milestone in her career: mature, emotive and imbued with a hint of futurism, it’s a delight.

It’s an album you’ll want to return to again and again.

Prins Thomas 5, however, feels like a soft launch for Prins Thomas 2.0. You can hear it from the off on the glam-tastic ‘Here Comes The Band’, said to be influenced by the veteran Glasgow melodic indie band, Teenage Fanclub.

Brighton six-piece The Go Team! imbue Semicircle with the high-octane vibes of a marching band taking on block party jams, Northern Soul and cutesy indie pop. It might sound crazy, but it works beautifully.

Zombie Zombie are clearly aiming for the lysergic head as well as the ecstatic feet and the end result is an organic concoction that doesn’t disappoint.

It’s compulsive and hypnotic.

Peder Mannerfelt, Paula Temple and NÍDIA are among the producers who worked on ‘Plunge’, bringing 150bpm batida rhythms and searing rave stabs to one of 2017’s most thrilling LPs.

The LP examines the traps of routine and the possibilities that dreaming and music offer to escape from them--and however distanced Iqbal might seem in her performance, as a listener you’ll quickly find both real connections to the album’s themes, and the variety of gorgeous sounds that she uses to express them.

My House From All Angles, comes some 27 years after his first effort. Almost nothing has changed in the interim: it’s all about drum machine, acid riff, repeated vocal, the odd disco loop--job’s a good ‘un. Kids a third of Dunn’s age go mad trying to create retro house, but he does it effortlessly, because it’s all he’s ever needed to do.

Reminiscent of a clumsier kind of guitar-drums-bass (plus synths) arrangement, the only remnant of Hung’s Fuck Buttons days is the privileging of drums in the mix. The rest of this unexpected foray is a trip into a post-punk and synth-pop past that needs no repeating.

There’s a new-age wash to some tracks that’s a bit too Enya-like for comfort, but this is an emotionally resonant LP that speaks of artistic, as well as personal, development.

If ‘Safe’ was Visionist’s “personal portrait of anxiety”, then ‘Value’ is his awakening.

If you’re looking for some immersive and emotional electronica, just Call Super.

While ‘Loving Life’ channels Jermaine Jackson’s ‘Do What You Do’ but takes it to church rather than the charts. 'Fast Lane’, meanwhile, drives straight to the pop pulpit with a chorus Jim Steinman would be proud of.

Names like Underground Resistance, Moodymann, Ectomorph and Claude Young should be all you need to hear to assure you you’re in safe hands, and the results are stunning, as they twist the disco, funk and psychedelia into fresh and crisp patterns.

As the mix migrates to the dancefloor, Lone drops some smooth 90s techno with John Beltran’s ‘Placid Angles’ and the cyber-electro of Drexciya’s ‘Bubble Metropolis’, before signing off with Radiohead’s obscure and atmospheric mood sketch ‘Worrywort’.

Bursts with textured atmospheres and danceable beats, all led by the unwavering might of Kelela’s lungs.

With a new band alongside him, he fills The Animal Spirits with haunting brain-melters that fuse modular synths, jazzy musicianship and trance-like rhythms.

Belief System is not only Special Request’s most definitive piece of work, but it will also, probably, prove to be Paul Woolford’s magnum opus.

This is music born from information overload and the quick slide toward environmental and political chaos, but while Gamble threatens to leave you scarred, he also offers refuge, too, in the form of his signature styles.

This new album works hard to add several new jams to his inimitable canon.

It’s a classy, timeless mix from a classy and timeless selector.

In short, Chase & Status remain fierce and on form.

It’s not always entirely straightforward listening, but when it comes together--like on the military march-meets-indie/techno schaffel of ‘Selling The Shadow’--it’s a timely reminder of Weatherall’s knack for putting smiles on faces

Zola Jesus’ distinctive, dramatic voice has always been the prime weapon in her arsenal, and on new album ‘Okovi’ it sounds more brooding than ever.

It eventually drifts into spaced-out blissfulness on the final four tracks, bringing a melodic ear-trip to a close.

It’s so absorbing that, by the end of the two-hour odyssey, you’ll be left wondering where the time went. Splendid stuff.

The spirits of Vangelis, Wendy Carlos and John Carpenter permeate throughout, and it feels like no exaggeration to suggest that Lopatin could soon join them in the pantheon of great electronic soundtrack composers.

If you’re a little refreshed and in the midst of a heartfelt festival singalong, things might sound different. But it’s hard to get caught up in some of the grandiose gestures on offer here.

‘The Kid’ feels organic and human; you can hear it in ‘Who I Am Why I Am Where I Am’, where repetitive Steve Reich-style phrases are layered like filo pastry. Like much of this beautiful record, its hypnotic intensity is immensely comforting.

It explores a plethora of bold sounds and styles with a distinctive ethereal edge--and just a touch of delectable curios

Thankfully, it doesn’t veer too wildly from his solo work, as Man Duo dive into shuddering Krautrock rhythms, slow-burn electro and stoner synth-pop.

Here, they sound comfortable as a band rather than an electronic duo who use guitars, with off-kilter songs that nod towards Joy Division and My Bloody Valentine and are full of fizzing synths and weeping accordions confirming their status as one of alternative pop’s finest acts.

Like the sprawling city it celebrates, The Road: Part One is endlessly eclectic.

Tension comes through not only in the album’s titles--‘Storms’, ‘Screens’ and ‘Eco Friend’--but in the tone of the tracks, where at one moment a song delves deep into an urgent, synthetic cadence, and then expands into an ambient sense of the vast beauty of the physical world.

It’s surprisingly dreamy and thoughtful at times (see lead single ‘Aura’, which radiates pure white light) and full of the yearning and bittersweetness of the best post-rave sunrise moments. Most of all, it’s laser-focused in the pursuit of pleasure, and makes absolute sense as a complete album.

They haven’t lost the ability to party, as proven by the grinding disco-funk of ‘Rejoice’, but Omnion is a serious, grown-up dance record for serious times.

Well, the good news is American Dream rocks, rolls, pops, fizzes and snaps. The energy is still there, no two songs sound the same and the ambition is somehow even more future-retro than before.

It can be tough going, but it’s really worth getting your teeth into.

The cuíca-driven balearica of ‘K16 del 1’ and avant-disco drive of ‘On U’ are standouts on an album of psychedelic grooves and tribal rhythms that unfurl with shimmering intensity.

The bona-fide future-classic ‘Oh Woman Oh Man’, the soft-focused but laser-guided balladry of ‘Hell To The Liars’ and ‘Rooting For You’, and the title track are as good as anything on their debut--and in ‘Non Believer’, they may well have written their finest song yet.

Our only gripe is with its brevity--29 minutes is too short.

Bundick says the LP was born out of a growing discomfort with fame. If so, he masks it well--listening to its gorgeous, woozy pop is like lying in a Radox bath.

Toddla T delves into new territory on his first release since 2012, fusing elements of gospel (‘Ungrateful’), funk (‘BlackJack21’), reggae (‘Foundation’), grime and dubstep (‘Foreign Light’). It’s a brave move to incorporate so many styles but, on the whole, it works.

Olson’s approach is simple without being naive and challenging rather than wilfully artsy, switching from the menacing ‘Weight’ to the pared-back acid of ‘Pop’.

What it lacks in surprises it makes up for in quality music. The Toronto boys have done a great job of mixing relatively obvious tracks like ‘Home Is Where The Hatred Is’ and ‘Don’t Talk…’ by The Beach Boys with more obscure cuts that’ll send you down the rabbit hole on a Spotify listening session.

Each track is forged and precision-engineered to bolt onto the next: there are times when Snaith takes you to dark places but then he clasps your hand tenderly, guiding you back to sunnier climes. Fabriclive 93 is an astonishing accomplishment.

At times the LP’s nostalgic outlook can be all-consuming, The likes of ‘Memory’ and ‘Vacuume’ do lighten the tone, but it would have been nice to see Haley also tackle darker timbres more often, as he does on ‘Syrthio’ and the title track.

Distractions is modern club music that acknowledges its history while still moving it forward, courtesy of one of the best in the game.

Steffi provides a delectable mix that’s a testament to her curating skills.

This is what pop should be in 2017: diverse, interesting and surprising.

All the samples and rhythms here you’ve heard a million times--but somehow, with this weirdness and his sheer panache as a producer, Vibert creates brand new rave dynamite, guaranteed to get dancefloors sweat-soaked and maniacal.

This album, on Ninja Tune offshoot Technicolour, presents an idiosyncratic take on electronic music that’s imbued with deep emotional content, yet danceable. All the while his engineering capabilities shine through, giving the album a polished touch.

Not as immediately blissful as ‘Elaenia’, but a magical new direction nonetheless.

Ruinism isn’t a departure from the type of chopped foundations we’ve come to expect from Lapalux, it’s just less thick with haze: both onimous and gorgeous, it’s an album of two halves that tiptoes into a purgatory state.

[An] immersive, frequently moving, absorbing experience.

It’s obvious he’s at the fore of UK rap. Lyrically, this LP hits the same themes as on his breakout 2015 mixtape.

This is his first proper solo LP project since ‘Saturnz Return’, and it’s brilliantly, bloody-mindedly Goldie: a slew of deep d’n’b grooves offset by beatless lounge-blues arias and glamour-soaked jazz club noodlings.

You may find it tough to get past the religiosity, but if you can, there’s real magic here.

Nite Jewel’s fourth album is her most personal and lyric-driven yet.

Remastered for vinyl by Matt Colton (James Blake, Aphex Twin, Hot Chip), it still hits heavy. ... An accompanying remix album celebrates diversity with offerings from Zomby, Skream and Adrian Sherwood, but it’s Hodge & Peverelist’s jerky mix of ‘Afro Left’ that runs away with top honours. It’s a fitting tribute to the LP’s legacy.

They sound as assured as ever on Home Counties.

On Electric Lines, the fine moments are bountiful.

Translating to ‘skin’ in English, its urgent, high-pitched signal follows the melancholy first-take of the artist’s vocal, who’s sung before but never with such vulnerability. It marks the start of a soaring new direction.

If you’re a fan, you won’t be disappointed. ... If you’re new to the zoo, prepare for a 20-track musical trip you won’t forget in a hurry.

Sometimes the constant shifts can leave you reeling and wondering what Jlin is trying to get at, but it’s never long before they pick you up again and pull you back into it. This is the sound of a huge talent blossoming.

It’s a gorgeous record, from start to finish.

Iif you’ve got a predilection for Vampire Weekend’s baroque alt-pop, Tame Impala’s psychedelica or the hazy bombast of M83 you’ll find this a comforting, welcoming destination.

An album full of gorgeous electronic folk and psych-pop, with Trogdon’s observations of the minutiae of life, love and nature (“the kindness of rain”; “everything on its way to being something else”) sitting perfectly in the mix. And it’s great.

‘Superfresh’ is less than the sum of its disco parts, though, while the less said about ‘Hot Property’ the better. But it picks up with ‘Something About You’ and ‘Summer Girl’, while ‘Carla’ is an electro-funk classic.

Then there’s her voice, sweet and breathy, uttering lyrics that are always in Spanish, yet sometimes content just to form unfamiliar, onomatopoeic sounds. It’s endlessly bewitching.

Passages of pummeling grooves, emotional strings and delicate piano are impressively tied together by Craig’s dancefloor expertise.

Ultimately, the sincerity and craft of the composition and production make it much more emotionally satisfying than the untold PCO knock-offs out there.

Concrete Desert is a potent blend of cinematic music-for-outsiders and deep, drone-leaning sounds.

It’s full of church organs, hazy reverb, rippling synths and poetry about mortality and eternity, as well as Sakamoto’s distinctive piano, sonar bleeps and unforgettable melodies. It’s arguably the most beautiful record you’ll hear this year.

[The first track, "Celebrate" is] a stunning start--and thankfully, the songs that follow are just as strong.

An album that’s underpinned by atmospherics that flicker between stalling and soaring, Abysma is blissfully evocative from start to finish.