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 record accomplishes what Eno has proposed is ambient music's main purpose: to heighten one's sense of their surroundings while allowing their own narrative to fill the music with meaning and context.

The decision to reject seamless beatmatching has only enhanced the mix, and lets us look into the Actress's process in a different context.

So many things have been synthesized into Chewed Corners from so many sources and ideas that any sense of direction, reaction, or engagement with the cutting edge is markedly less adventurous than most releases on his own label.

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.

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.

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.

Perhaps realizing that it's divisive and reductive to only dabble in one or the other, SMD opts for a satisfactory middle ground in its live sets, rearranging the pair's accessible pop moments as skeletal reincarnations of themselves.

Comfort won't be for everyone, but it's hard to argue that the risks Coles has taken don't pay off. If nothing else, it's certainly fascinating to watch her expand her aesthetic beyond the dancefloor.

A cursory listen to The North Borders may give a "been there done that" impression at points, but a closer listen reveals just how much he's carefully pushing his own boundaries.

While it's engaging, tantalizing and consistently interesting, it tests the listener by wading through a foliage of field recordings and mouth harps to get to its core, requiring an effort which can potentially get wearying at times.

All of these seemingly fragmented entries would be rather disappointing were it not for the fact that they are all brought together in one final movement-a continuous DJ mix. It's like an 'aha' moment; without it, Hermansen's concept wouldn't successfully come together.

The thing that makes the LP so engaging is the fact that Shaw picks a mood and runs with it--this is not an album that lives up to the cliché of taking the listener on a journey; rather, it's a work that roots the listener to a spot and stares them dead in the eyes for an hour.

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

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.

Smalhans, [is] a return to his old self that alternatively plays things a little too safe by offering six tracks of Lindstrøm-by-numbers.

Personality is less a cohesive statement than a scattered reflection of the experimental process that's come to define Scuba's output in the new decade.

It has style and character, it's both puzzling and gratifying, and above all, it's filled with solid tunes.

Nothing feels forced or amplified for impact. It’s a humble and understated sound and one that endears me to her as a human. The tracks and the overall narrative are succinct, though I wished the trip was longer. When the album finished I was compelled to play it through again.

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.

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.

In spite of its occasional missteps, it ably bridges futuristic synthscapes with the rhythmic dexterity of footwork's foremost practitioners.

An album whose tastefulness and craft never compromise its intrigue.

Only a handful of Replicant Moods' tracks make a lasting impression, but this foursome still consistently gets the entropy-to-pattern ratio just right.

As a series, Pop Ambient may gradually be losing its vitality, but its musical perspective does not have to. Moving forward, an adjustment to the delivery platform would do much to make Pop Ambient's sound more relevant.

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

The album is relentlessly cinematic, almost oppressively so, which makes listening to Lost Themes from start to finish a bizarrely visual experience; whereas a great deal of electronic music is remarkably open to interpretation.

For the most part, it's simply a pleasure to sit back and plug in.