That Devour is such a tiring album is a testament to its cohesiveness. These tracks flow elegantly into one another, and the attention to dynamics and tension allows for seamless listening.

In her latest album, Analog Fluids Of Sonic Black Holes, she relies on a reconfiguration of negro spirituals, scattered jazz and roiling punk vocals to embark on an arresting travel through time with lucid narratives of black protest. ... While preserving the erratic nature of an arresting live set, her productions appear clearer and more controlled than on previous albums.

The strength of In These Times is in its considered arrangements. The melodies take center stage rather than solely the kinetic rhythmic attack McCraven can unleash whenever he pleases. And when he pleases, his percussion charts can hit with a ferocity that shudders like drum licks plucked from a lengthy Fela-meets James-Brown after-hours live session.

once Random Access Memories unravels, it is, at its best, pretty magnificent.

Moot! is an unpretentious and fun record peppered with quick gear changes, pitch shifts and soul-searching anecdotes about empty neighbourhoods and peering into dark waters at dusk. Everything is immediate and anchored by Magaletti's percussion, which is both raw and immaculate.

Fetch picks up right where Horizontal Structures left off: von Oswald allowing the group's myriad tones and timbres to bleed out and coagulate.

What does it feel like to be alive in a digital age, overloaded and confused, but excited, too? What perspectives are possible now? Piteous Gate is a captivating attempt at putting those feelings into sound.

The spirit of the concept is dazzlingly portrayed at times, but the LP also conveys the emptiness of these things, the true idea of a "new pleasure"—everything we want, though not always enough of what we need. But it's great while it lasts.

hej! is one of PC Music's most well-rounded records yet.

It's the "electronic music" aspect of Strange Passion that's most fascinating.

The result is one of the most punchy, lyrically explorative UK rap albums of the year.

From its rumbling lows to its ethereal, resonant highs, Tomorrow Was The Golden Age is one of the simplest and most beguiling albums of its kind since Stars Of The Lid's landmark run on Kranky in the '00s.

Because of its occasional bursts of rhythm and melody, Post Self is one of the more accessible Godflesh albums.

The result is a thrilling meditation on the weirdness of now.

The haunting chorus and zither strings of "Cry Winds Or Flames," the distorted, swampy drama of "Enter Venus" and the propulsive "The Water Sibyl" all offset the LP's drowsy qualities. Perhaps most crucially, Calypso also feels personal.

With Signals, Wen has nearly perfected the claustrophobic grime sound he started sketching in 2012.

Tyla's music hovers in a zone that occupies amapiano, Afrobeats, and R&B all at once. That she's able to occupy all these spaces in a way that feels familiar is a testament to her poise and ingenuity.

It's equal parts dark and light, these two elements intermingling to create an ambivalent set of emotions, from gnawing fear to brief tranquillity, as unnerving and uncertain as you imagine life in a war zone might be.

Sonically and conceptually, Wrecked is a more mature work than Techno Animal's last LP, the rowdy, energetic The Brotherhood Of The Bomb. Most significantly, they have the monolithic voice of Moor Mother, AKA Camae Ayewa. Her cool-headed but threatening lower register delivery is a perfect match for the music.

Across Goodbye, Hotel Arkada, she continues to craft poignant work that tints the atmosphere, transporting the listener to the remembrances and moments of imagination that float freely within the mind's eye.

The dark liquid that once represented Björk's emptiness becomes a source of love that gushes and flows through her. Where once it felt suffocating, here it feels open and endless.

With Steam Days, Fake returns to the fuzzy melodies and subtle, static-laced gleam that marked not only much of his best early work but also his better remixes.

Music For Installations doesn't offer a single listening experience: these tracks make far more sense looped, either alone or in small groups, to create a particular, sustained mood.

Rochelle Jordan is staking her own claim to the dance floor without losing sight of her intimate, sometimes vulnerable songwriting.

The Ship, his sixth Warp record in seven years, entwines various threads from these albums [Small Craft On A Milk Sea, Lux, and Highlife] into a heady amalgam that stands as his best work for the label to date.

It was a chance encounter with Stanford's Center for Computer Research in Music and Acoustics that helped Jain discover her knack for producing this kind of music. That kind of serendipitous experience illustrates what she's instilling here—following the seeds of your interest, however small, to blossom the singularity of your voice. For Arushi Jain, spring has sprung.

The album reflects a fascination with the act of creation through the exploration of other artistic mediums and the nature of the music itself. Atkinson is able to represent these complex webs of ideas in ways that feel infinitely deep by embracing the enigmatic nature of sound and art.

The whole album bleeds into one magnificent mess, thanks in part to some incredibly short track times, but also to the nature of the music itself.