Even when Clark is firing sounds at bewildering speeds, it's never a chore--in other words, it's a lot more fun than Clark's reputation might suggest.

The album stays reasonably well-balanced throughout, straddling that fine line between understatement and being sledgehammer-esque obvious.

Midway through RR7349, "Wardenclyffe" cuts back and forth from cheeky synth pop to stratospheric synth vistas, revealing how much better S U R V I V E are with the latter approach. They finally concede to their strengths in the album's second half.

Fascinating and vibrant, Texture Like Sun finds Deenmamode less concerned with his own life and times, focusing instead on the world around him.

This is a minor work, but a minor work from a master of his art.

These might not be Martin's most envelope-pushing beats, but it's hard to think about that when the walls are violently shaking.

It's an interesting diversion for Romans, and might just be the most admirable part of Valere Aude.

Pretty Ugly takes the ugliest tropes of UK dance music and flips them inside out without losing what makes them so physically powerful in the first place.

As expected, Hyperdub's output retains a pretty sophisticated tone even when it's dealing in pop hooks and party tracks.

The final result is up there, but as it jumps frantically from idea to idea, it dulls the impact of its best ideas in favour of others that might have been best left in a folder along with hundreds of other loops on his laptop.

With slightly more judicious editing, Let's Turn It Into Sound could have been a grand crossover statement, combining admittedly trendy synth experiments with freak-folk charisma. But that's not what Smith is going for here. Instead, the LP feels like listening to someone try out a new talent, learning as they go along, substituting practiced polish with a hunger for new ideas and self-expression.

The Shakes is worth hearing for the sonic detail alone. The best tracks have an inclusive, sweeping abandon that rivals the high points of Scale.

[The album's] obfuscating mires of navel-gazing perhaps precludes it from attaining Ninja Tune classic status, but those of a darker disposition will likely be of the opinion this challenging opus collates Ortega's strongest work to date.

Colonial Patterns is not a flawless record, but it does open up a whole new world of possibilities for Leeds as a producer, and places him decisively outside any box people might wish to put him in.

The result, for its few flaws and its exhilarations, at the very least, sounds fantastic, production-wise; Grace finds the band melding tooth-ground guitar assaults; '80s throwback candy pop; fluttery house templates; dusty, almost Stax-worthy soul getaways and sample-laced electro throbs into an album willing to sacrifice sonic exactitude for a mélange of sounds, tempos and genre exercises that still feels very much of a singular-albeit kaleidoscopic-piece.

Absorbing a Squarepusher LP in one sitting has always been for more adventurous or diligent listeners, but the dank final section means that, outside of more hardcore fans, Be Up A Hello will probably need to be navigated in exactly the right sort of mood.

Stately though Dedication was, its serious mien and careful composition made it an introduction to Zomby that made his work seem less appealingly messy than it oftentimes is. This seven-song, 23-minute EP remedies that.

Sadly, tracks like "Years Ago, Days Pass" or "Wired"--even with their intricate array of digital ornaments--remain badly in need of a proper tune; album closer "Nights," on the other hand, simply comes across as an anemic piano-led ballad: clocking in at seven minutes, it easily outstays its welcome and ends the album on a lukewarm note.

For Years feels like the natural conclusion to the quest he quietly started back in 2010.

With arena-size atmospherics and every sound endowed with a fathoms-deep dub delirium, Eight is an album as focused on its meticulous sound design as it is on the musicality.

Emerson's decision to duck out of dance music and resurface as an indie-electronica artist for her long-awaited debut album feels like a risk, but in its well-worn and world-weary approach to songwriting, it's also deeply familiar, almost comforting.

The album as a whole is accomplished, but it still hasn't entirely caught up with the precision of his visual multiverse. Still, I am glad that Labyrinth offers another glimpse of Kanda's alternate realities.

The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions, just slightly overcorrects with its mainstream-seeking direction, opting for more James Blake-esque electronic pop and reeling in the eccentricities.

At 16 songs and with impressive guest features, it's a sprawling portrait of James, one with mostly dark and subdued tones.

Instead of trying something new, he focuses on what he's good at, which makes Claustrophobia a lateral move rather than a step forward. It seems Rose is trying to recapture the brilliance of his peak-period work. In Claustrophobia's best moments, he does.


Scattered brilliance makes Shelly's On Zenn-La a compelling listen. At its best, the LP showcases a composer with an uncompromising will to experiment, even if it yields mixed results.

Coles has a way of making her tracks sound massive and intimate at the same time, using reverb in a way that evokes both the expanse of an arena and the introspection of a bedroom.... Comfort has enough of these moments to remind us of her casual brilliance, but not enough to make it the complete knockout it could be.

On "Drop Down," Lunice's bass stabs align nicely with Le1f's vocal stabs. With a few more tracks like these, the LP would have made for an even more dramatic return to the spotlight.