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.

Hauschildt's new opus is certainly just as captivating and varied as some of his band's [Emeralds] best work.

It's a little bit of everything, which is perhaps why ƒIN is such a rich, fulfilling listen.

Psutka's production on A/B Till Infinity is evocative and daring, and combines a future-oriented polish with an austere sense of simplicity, solidifying Egyptrixx's distinctiveness amongst a new crop of surface-obsessed underground producers.

Every selection here is strong, and though scholars may have heard the lion's share of these tracks already, this is a sturdy, enlightening gateway into a realm that isn't easily penetrable for those who weren't there.

Some may complain that Blondes hasn't radically expanded its horizons on Swisher, but frankly, such an effort isn't even necessary, as there's still fresh ground to cover within the confines of the duo's engrossing signature style.

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.

The album might not have quite enough Flying Lotus for some, and a little too much Aloe Blacc for others, but it has just enough Georgia Anne Muldrow to be another worthy entry into the catalog of a truly gifted musician.

Picking up right where A Certain Distance left off, the Seattle-based producer's latest LP shows the same passion for methodical soundscapes, which are no less thoughtful for their glowing warmth.

Magazine 13's emotional register may be rife with contradictions, but sinking into the album is never anything less than a joy.

Even more than a Lynchian album, Flamagra is nothing if not a FlyLo album. As usual he lends himself to superlatives and clichés, the sign of a singular artist (there’s another) about whom there just aren’t that many descriptors.

In terms of song choice, and as an exercise in breaking boundaries, Scuba's DJ Kicks stands as a solid effort on par with the good work he's done with his recent productions.

Earthly Delights for some, surely, and otherworldly torments for others.

There are some songs which start off tepid, become lukewarm, and emit flickers of Blake’s usual brilliance. ... hile it's easy to criticise Blake’s chart-pandering forays into trap and pop, it is actually Assume Form’s most unashamed pop songs that rescue it from insufferable drabness.

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

12 Bit Blues is an enjoyable record and an exciting addition to Kid Koala's catalog.

As always, it's a lot to take in; even after a dozen listens, the album's too oblique to really register in the memory. That slipperiness does nothing to diminish the moments when things really stick, though.

He showcases the breadth of footwork and pushes the sound forward by building links with trap, R&B, and Jersey. In doing so, he reinvigorates footwork and brings it up to date with 2018 dance culture.

Fabriclive 93 might not be flawless--but it sure is fun.

There's no doubt that Visions is an excellent album.

Slow Focus has the sheen and seemingly high stakes of a blockbuster movie--and enough easy thrills to compensate for the stakes being, in reality, pretty low.

It's a work of and inspired by ritualized labor, haunted by the irretrievable loss of a culture.

Wenu Wenu's success lies in its ability to cleave memorable passages from homogenized surroundings.

Adventurous but not selfish, intelligent but not difficult, a victory lap of sorts but hardly congratulatory, Terje's first album is astoundingly balanced and astonishingly broad, a wider serving of the man's artistic vision that ultimately proves just as satisfying as his single servings have in the past.

Field-Pickering isn't yet the type to release a grand album statement, but so far, his best moments have been the monolithic ones. Now, it's just a matter of amassing enough of them for a long-player.

Although beatless, it is not altogether one of those ambient albums you could play in the background and ignore, nor necessarily fall asleep listening to. At times unsettling and industrial-sounding, this is far from forgettable music; it is engaging, futuristic, and trippy as hell.

Spurred by excellent, challenging production, the record maintains an adequate sonic distance from its inspirations, and the bonus disc's excellent selection of remixes fosters a dialogue between jungle, house, and techno's past and present.

Some of the best moments on I AKA I are when the producer plays it relatively straight.