Whether as background music for one's day-to-day or as a receiver of one's full attention, it is truly an enjoyable record that is prepared to fill whatever space is asked of it.

Glass Swords feels and sounds like a cohesive statement, and a strong one at that.

III is a pleasant--although occasionally forgettable--listen from a seasoned artist who is playing to his strengths.

It's a fantastical story of aliens, spirits, and children told by one breathtakingly gifted artist, and it's utterly remarkable.

The different styles explored throughout Carrier produce varying sonic results, but never fail to assure the listener that they are listening to one of the most emotionally rich electronic records of this year.

Truly, there's nothing outrightly offensive about There's More to Life Than This, but there's little to hold on to either.

Looping State of Mind might just be the finest document of his craft yet.

Darnell is entirely aware of his own bravado, and it's that bravado, along his willingness to keep tongue in cheek, that makes I Wake Up Screaming such a worthwhile listen.

Plaid's sixth proper studio album, Scintilli, is hard to place stylistically, but nonetheless offers plenty of enjoyable head-scratching moments, along with a straight-up tune or two.

While The Devil's Walk may not be an absolute blemish on the Apparat discography, those who found his earlier works (such as Duplex, Walls, and the excellent remix collection, Things to be Frickled) so rewarding will find that this album unfortunately pales in comparison.

Neon Indian's second album is a collection of more serious and straightforward pop tunes that separate his penchants for the past and its oddities, and shed nearly all trademarks of the dubious genre he haphazardly pioneered.

The Rapture's latest is both a welcome and necessary addition to its relatively small discography, a record the band should be both proud of and content to leave as the final chapter of its existence. At least until they come back again.

All told, Azari & III is a solid work with plenty to offer newcomers and devoted fans alike.

Yes, it's ridiculous to expect everyone to make a grand statement with each release, but there's scarcely a trace of an evolving style or technique to be found on Down 2 Earth. Surely, we're entitled to expect more.

Somehow, when put together, the artists' individual strengths are watered down, resulting in a mixture of the benign and the over-the-top, depending on the particular song.

Shlohmo's "debut" LP arrives slightly bloated due to its own blind ambition, and might require a few taps of the skip button for a more rewarding listen.

It's a singular, though often exciting, vision with seemingly no end, but as the scope of Sun Araw expands wider and wider, it might benefit its creator and his tools to grow along with it.

There are a few lulls to be heard on Haven (as in songs like "Someone" or "At Last," that begin with good ideas but never form into anything more substantial), but they are all easily overshadowed by the fascinating convergence of influences that comprise the album's 10 tracks, making it an extremely promising debut and a uniquely assertive statement in its own right.

While it's obvious that Hicks and Hall know their way around both sound- and songcraft, they rarely--if ever--use those skills to sound like anything but a band even the most casual synth-pop fan would be familiar with.

Overall, Satin Panthers is an excellent new entry in the Hudson Mohawke discography, a case in which an artist stayed the stylistic course and improved on an already-successful formula.

While it's not an impeccable album, Ada's Meine Zarten Pfoten (German for "my tender paws") does offer some pretty exciting experimentation and a few really great pop songs.

All in all, most every cut on Sam Baker's Album is solid in its own right, but maybe 40 minutes is just too much, considering that the lines which box in the instrumental hip-hop genre become only more clear as the album pushes on.

With Dedication, Zomby's first release for the legendary indie label 4AD, he's turned increasingly inward-and it's an entirely welcome trajectory.

It's that attachment to the Earth that makes Clams Casino's otherworldly hip-hop familiar enough to reach any true lover of beats.

The kitsch value may warrant a spin or two for curiosity's sake, but few of the album's 10 productions have the staying power of the musical touchstones Com Truise is referencing.

Perhaps the album's only major drawback is its lack of jaw-dropping "wow" moments. It's as though 100% Publishing is almost a little too consistent.

It points the way towards a possible new sound but lacks the polish, originality, and final touches that would make it stand out as a serious work of its own.

Carbonated may not be exactly what the legions of devoted Mount Kimbie fans have been pining for, but music with such intricately weaved details surely takes time, and this EP proves to be a welcome stopgap to help hold us over.

What's likely to stick out first and foremost on the 10 tracks that comprise Black Up are the beats.

While Power exhibits his range in mood and melody on this self-titled debut, one can't help but wonder how much the album could have benefited from even the smallest touch of the rhythms that give his other outfit its vibrant energy.

This record may be an EP in name, but it's certainly a long-player in scope.

After eight-plus years of releasing music, Junior Boys demonstrate handily with It's All True that they remain fresh, luminous, and highly relevant.

Something happened in the shift from Games' That People Play EP to Channel Pressure. That welcome looseness was lost in lieu of Ford & Lopatin's more focused and (dare we say) over-thought songwriting and production, and it's as if there are too many cultural cues being thrown our way this time around.

Despite (or maybe because of) the absence of Braxton, Battles has soldiered on into new musical territory, and discovered a place that is simultaneously confrontational and inviting, esoteric and playful, technical and infectious-and very, very good.

Stone Breaker is the foundation of E building something new and completely different: an intense, head-down, relentless edifice of original, modern house music.

It's lurid, it's fun, it's omnipresent across all cultures, and yet no one wants to talk about it. This is the vibe that holds Women's Studies together.

Bespoke features a wealth of sounds and guest singers, but Darlington often lacks the glue to hold them together.

In short, it is rare to find a producer who can craft many types of tracks so consistently well, but with You Stand Uncertain, FaltyDL has cemented himself as such.

With more misses than hits on Bibio's new LP, it's apparent that his array of influences are best served in separate portions rather than blended together.

Credit Egyptrixx for making a debut album that sounds at once so unified and whole, yet like absolutely nothing else.

This is ripe, modern disco that's commercial enough to lure suburbanites into Target and skeezy enough to entertain smack addicts (as seen in the tune's music video).

Space Is Only Noise might be one of the most ear-opening techno records in recent memory.

In all honesty, New Chain isn't so very different from the rest of the Bushwick bulk. What is worth returning to, however, is the fact that the music offered is effortlessly lovely, memorable, well-transitioned, and oddly addicting.

The main problem is that the songs too often feel like sketches. The punchline is sold too quickly, the finish too abrupt.

In the end, Lucky Shiner stands as a proper introduction to a producer who cares as much about moving your body as he does your soul.

It's an undefinable musical culmination of our collective conscious-reminding us that the more we've changed, the more we've stayed the same.

Ring may not be perfect--certain songs have a nondescript, meandering feel--but this kind of growth is undeniably exciting, and makes both Glasser and True Panther well worth watching.

This is functional, workmanlike music built out of sturdy analog technology. For home listening and for the club, this is useful music to have around.

Such uplift from dread makes Strange Weather a fitting party record for our age when so many American Dreams, lived and fantasized, are falling apart. Pass the bottle.

One of Paper Tiger's finest qualities is its ability to include a diverse list of contributors who provide just the right formula of loops, dub beats, and samples to the album without making it seem bloated.

The new record doesn't quite live up to its predecessor, but its middle third is especially strong.

It's the defiantly weird edges that make Compass cohere.

The resulting album, which has been 18 months in the making, is certainly more complicated, although not more sophisticated than previous work.

Make no mistake, Our Inventions is a very nice album—"Rest Your Head" and "Everything is Always" are precious little slices of pop music—just don't expect kids who have been gorging on the psychedelic exploits of Animal Collective to flip out over this one.

Much like Four Tet's recent switch in focus towards club-friendly sonics, Caribou's Swim leaps into fresh, uncharted territory for the producer, but nonetheless retains the artist's unmistakably inviting and lovable style.

Most tracks play like one elongated idea and only a few songs sound fully fleshed-out, giving Thing a half-baked, underwhelming vibe.

Jones' voice is an instrument shaped by age, not youth, and Hard Way proves she's just hitting her stride.

The watery guitar parts of All the Way remain, rolled up into gritty, more linear drum-machine rhythms that occasionally give way to the serene drone of Growing's earlier years.

While the album's unique collage of what seems like vintage sounds will prompt endless "is that a sample?" debates amongst crate diggers, the pure joy offered by just listening will hopefully reveal those arguments for what they are-beside the point.

Mi Ami continues to explore its loose-groove, jam-band tendencies on the epic "Dreamers" and album closer "Slow," but in far more reserved quantities than Watersports, making for a much more exciting and immediately lovable listen.

It's nice to find a little mystification from a duo that often prizes rigor over imagery.

Some lo-fi purists will undoubtedly cry foul when they hear "The Longest Shadows" or "When It Comes," which bookend the album with slightly glossier production and an '80s goth-disco vibe that recalls Siouxsie and The Banshees or The Church. These tracks, along with "On Giving Up" and "Constant Winter," undeniably signal High Places' shift toward a more accessible sound, but they also happen to be some of the brightest spots on the album.

Bjorke's ear candy is delightful when consumed, but rarely worth a repeat. Still, Bjorke has plenty of sonic reach, and his album is worth a spin to find the scattering of gems.

Now and then, Wolf will offer thoughtful contemplations surrounded by muted chimes and generous xylophone twinkles, but if it's a matter of Wolf's work being particularly groundbreaking, then we'd urge him to think before taking the red-eye.

Sisterworld maintains Liars' sonic trappings but apparently deals with subcultural scenes as a means of maintaining identity in a city like LA.

Call it whatever you want-Barnett and his bandmates are just getting started with their musical experiments.

The resulting album is light and breezy.

Going Places has the feel of a ghost bearing down on you, and the only comfort it offers lies in the fact that it feels a lot like being alive right now.

Jaga Jazzist transforms potentially icy sonics into warm, clever outbursts with apparent ease.

At the very least, Dear God, I Hate Myself marks a new level of maturity and self-awareness for the band.

White Hills have struck a riveting balance between heaviness and ethereality while proving space rock can still stimulate four decades after its Big Bang.

The two display perfect chemistry with the Seattle beatsmith's bangers complimenting the Philly Freezer's gruff delivery.

The project as a whole is impressive, but it's a testament to Gonzales that his music holds up to the grand scope of his endeavor.

With Odd Blood, the Brooklyn trio has left behind its most obvious ethnic influences--and its environmental anxiety--for a tighter, more polished sound.

The album's dusty beats, pointed electronics, and cinematic feel are pleasantly familiar, at best they recall the band's past glory rather than pushing forward their legacy.

Bundick's Causers of This is also peaceful, but the album's tranquil tones sound a lot more like happy accidents than well-executed plans.

The third full-length from Hendrick Weber maintains the high quality of previous efforts while pushing certain elements of his shoegaze-y, minimal-inspired techno sound further.

Kings Ballad marks the natural progression of a remarkable artist-in-residency.

While the songs are still complex and full of countless moving parts, each melody and note plays a specific role, leaving There Is Love with a real clarity of vision.

Crafting spacious soundscapes, taking droney vision quests into '70s psychedelia, and offering pleasantly subdued vocals, the Oakland trio appears to have found solid footing as a band of new-school doom-rock warriors.

Instead of straight hip-hop, The Colossus is an omnibus record, swallowing brass-wielding collaborators, live instruments, hand-aged beats, and its creator's voice—all in service of a mission to unify RJ's pet genres via horn-blasted statements of intent fit for rollicking arenas ("Let There Be Horns"), menacing synthesizer pit traps ("A Spaceship For Now"), and intricate instrumentals.

the Norwegian superproducer has been intermittently working with Christabelle since 2001 and all the years of back-and-forth were clearly worth it, as Real Life is simply stellar.

The obvious influences lend more to remembering old favorites than to finding new ones, yet Dinowalrus' album should appeal to fans of no-wave's vintage aesthetic.

Impressive in both scale and execution, Heartland succeeds not just due to Pallett's sizable talents, but his belief in his even larger ambition.

The Music Scene adds new knots to Blockhead's sly, ironic take on boom-bap, incorporating shifting structures that spiral into changing tempos, half-remembered snippets of soul horns and gnarly old guitars, and occasional drifts into hazy, shimmering psychedelia. Sadly, this fog thickly enshrouds the back half of the disc as the tempos stagnate, rendering it inert and crying out for a shot of adrenaline.