On Love What Survives, Mount Kimbie have emerged from their chrysalis to become something new altogether. Some might be disappointed that, for now, they’ve moved further away from dance music. But in the process, they’ve made a bewitching kind of music that’s uniquely their own.

Upon first listen, this album will disappoint those searching for the clever and inventive dancefloor tracks for which Vynehall has become most loved. There isn’t actually anything here which could be recognized as house music. ... Once you do get over it--and it may take several listens--Nothing Is Still is an intriguing engagement with an ambitious artist clearly still in development.

At it best moments, Overgrown proves that the two sides of James Blake—the dancefloor oddball and the crossover songwriter—can exist side by side, but it also demonstrates that, at least right now, the balance between the two is totally off.

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.

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.

That Le Kov is so loaded with meaning and significance adds to its appeal, but ultimately it’s the emotion and sound of the songs that make it such a wonderful and unusual record.

As it is now, John Wizards is an effortlessly fun, pan-global pop record that stands on its own, no qualification needed.

Listeners won't walk away with a clear narrative about The Inheritors, which is designed for nonlinear exploration. It doesn't pay off all its risks—at times it gets too blurry to follow--but this album sounds like little else.

Clocking in at a breezy 37 minutes, Mount Kimbie's second album feels a bit slight by the time it's finished, though not because it's short on great ideas or compelling tunes.

On Punish, Honey, Gainsborough has stepped up his sound design, but he's done so with a newly brutal approach. One hopes that he hasn't entirely abandoned his earlier, more atmospheric sound, but as career turning points and transformations go, this album is an accomplished one.

For all of its turbulence and dislocations, R Plus Seven is an astounding thing to behold, a perfectly imperfect and downright breathtaking masterpiece.

99% is a brilliant, well-realized combination of styles, with more than its fair share of memorable and addictive songs.

The record may not be Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill, but pieces like "Living Room" are the essence of Harris's singular oeuvre.

Ultimately, the restless movement here doesn't help the "classical" tracks connect to a non-specialized audience, but it does make for an inventive dialogue between the club and the ivory tower.

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.

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.

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

His LNT is a soothing, calming mix for music lovers and night owls, with a human touch that’s impossible to replicate.

The music continually jumps between dubstep, house, techno, and beyond, almost never losing its propulsive motion. That kind of flow--matched with top-shelf tunes from around the globe--helps make Pinch's installment for Fabric's ongoing series an outstanding and even-handed display of contemporary soundsystem music that won't likely grow stale any time soon.

From a production standpoint, When You're Gone is a simply stunning effort, one that is continually intriguing and constantly surprising.

His evolution may not be complete, but the process hasn't prevented him from making quality tunes in the meantime.

It is what he decides to do with his production skills that is questionable, and although glimpses of solid tunes do show up every so often, Ask the Dust is nonetheless a disappointment.

This might not be an album that breaks much new ground, then, but what it does do, it does so expertly that you cannot help but be absorbed.

From its massively hedonistic club tunes to its handful of cavernous dancefloor abstractions, Drop the Vowels is an unsurprisingly quality affair.

Midland has created an imagined experience within the confines of a night at the club, the full evening from expectant queuing to frazzled come down condensed into 74 minutes. And as a master of that realm, he manages it with aplomb.

The LP is merely the byproduct of Barnes steadily refining his intricate and very particular sound.

It gets tiresome to listen to 14 bangers in a row. Had the duo distilled the finest cuts from its massive tracklist into something a bit sleeker, Ghost Systems Rave could have been an absolutely smashing release.

That ability to present such harnessed disarray through fresh and exciting music makes Replica a compelling listen from start to finish and a brilliant new direction for Oneohtrix Point Never's sound.