When Lantern hits its high points, it ends up somewhere in the stratosphere. When it falters, it's mostly because it's too ambitious, either thematically, as with the overblown love songs, or technically, as with the roller-coaster sequencing that halts the momentum over and over.

The Shakes is worth hearing for the sonic detail alone. The best tracks have an inclusive, sweeping abandon that rivals the high points of Scale.

Ambiguities can make Olympic Mess's charms difficult to excavate, but it's well worth making the effort to do so.

The LP hops between ideas and experiments in the tradition of the rock music double-album, and even within individual songs things are rarely straightforward.

Stylistically, it's more of a grab-bag than ever before, occasionally tipping the scales from charming to bombastic.

Platform is full of beautifully corrupted, synthesised signals.

What we're left with is an uneven album that's rarely as profound or as meaningful as it tries to be.

It's slightly ludicrous, highly theatrical and great fun.

This is a short album that toggles around pretty familiar sounds without doing anything new with them. But in this final salvo, Walls have proven that they are a force.

For all their strange angles and squeaky sonorities, these songs satisfy in the way that pop has always satisfied, no more and no less.

Cunningham focuses primarily on selection for his hour-long jaunt through murky technoisms. All too often, though, technique and sequencing seem to have been banned from the booth.

Runddans is an intriguing and sometimes fun experiment, but it's not quite a meeting of great musical minds.

The album is a ultimately a disappointment, but it has its moments nonetheless.

Very little of Trickfinger could be called surprising, but it isn't without its charms.

Captain Of None places Schott's voice front-and-centre and folds in her long-burning love for dub and reggae rhythms, making for her most approachable and otherworldly record yet.

An elegant, heartbroken album that wraps its dance floor influence in thick pop overtones.

Where Ufabulum felt like a garish souvenir from the performance built around it, Damogen Furies is more substantial and self-contained.

Where Bad Vibes had a dynamic range of feeling, Dark Red is melodramatic to the point of being alienating.

Jlin has plenty to say, and she has a remarkably strong and distinctive voice with which to say it.

Beneath its stylish veneer, Unspell lacks substance.

The gussied-up politeness that has followed Greene throughout his career is still an issue here, making the less adventurous material sound slightly anonymous. That's why the thick textures on "Folle" stand out so much, or why it's so exciting when Greene lets it all float away on "Lately." There are more than enough of these moments to make the record worthwhile.

Instead of trying something new, he focuses on what he's good at, which makes Claustrophobia a lateral move rather than a step forward. It seems Rose is trying to recapture the brilliance of his peak-period work. In Claustrophobia's best moments, he does.


Rather than an earth-shattering opus, Dream A Garden is a stepping stone to a new sound, one with enough promising moments to suggest it's only a matter of time before Latham gets there.

He may be trading more in the glow of nostalgia than the shock of the new, but he can still deliver the goods.

Excerpts feels like a series of glimpses into Gast's world, where past full-lengths have been an unbroken wander through it.

An album that finds Cantu-Ledesma orchestrating perhaps the most gorgeous ambience of his career so far.

Without its academic trappings, Projections starts to grate, with its middle-of-the-road niceness and mood of tepid celebration. With them, it's borderline offensive.

For all the dub diehards, Late Night Endless is a must-have. For the rest, it's a leisurely detour in the catalogues of two great artists who proved themselves a long time ago.