Nearly a quarter of a century after its initial release, My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts remains a beautifully finished work, despite its complexity: every line and fragment in place, every surface and effect neatly separated out. [#266, p.56]

A clear triumph, a dense work destined to grow thicker with each listen. [#266, p.65]

A high-level concept album that never wastes a note. [#266, p.59]

A sound thrumming with bold analogue synthesizers and beefy rock drums. [#254, p.67]

As you try to sift through the dense crosstalk of twittering beats, your ears are beguiled ever deeper into Konono's rhythmic threshing machine. [#253, p.52]

These are what protest songs can sound like, feel like and taste like in the 21st century. [#257, p.52]

This music's shoreline is made up of instrumental delicacy and subtle arrangements, which burble, froth and foam washing over the listener with an insistent but gentle force. [#257, p.61]

Buck's refusal to recognise musical boundaries and his instinctive ability to pick out elements that work together--sometimes surprisingly so--have given us a genre-bending album of high artistic vision, spit and grit. [#258, p.52]

The mood is always unsettled and unsettling, either furious or fragile. [#258, p.67]

Some of these tracks have a stark, haunting beauty that marks them out as perfectly realised compositions in their own right. [#258, p.68]

A richly nuanced album, and eloquent in its restraint. [#257, p.57]

Callahan is a true original. [#255, p.65]

Hebden is a voracious consumer and producer of ideas, although there is sometimes the feeling, amid all this glut and gusto, that they're ideas for idea's sake. [#256, p.54]

Even when the songs aren't motivated by anger or frustration, they have a drive and a momentum that's breathtaking. [#256, p.52]

Caught somewhere between the big yucks and the thoughtful overview are moments of genuine strangeness that are both captivating and unsettling. [#255, p.59]

The ideas are better realised here than on [Why?'s] earlier material. [#258, p.67]

It's clear... that the quartet... are growing in confidence and ideas. [#256, p.54]

Niblett takes the old quiet-loud dynamic and stretches it to unexpected lengths. [#258, p.68]

This intriguing, relatively mild entente between elegiac melodicism and freeform lyrics has many moments of quiet innovation. [#256, p.63]

The only drawback to this semi-collage approach is that many tracks are too brief. [#256, p.51]

A complex and challenging listen. [#257, p.61]

If anything, however, Autechre have pulled back the throttle on their excursions into the unknown. [#254, p.53]

This decidedly literate songcraft has a range of ancestors, including Talking Heads, Sparks and David Grubbs, but three albums along, The Books are nailing down a distinctive soundworld of their own. [#254, p.54]

Touching and beautiful. [#256, p.63]

The Residents walk a precarious line between American underbelly creepiness and a more mannered absurdism. [#254, p.63]

Darkness At Noon works because it doggedly pursues its convictions through to a satisfying conclusion and in doing so creates its own kind of offbeat logic. [#254, p.53]

Guero turns out to be much stronger than its provenance suggests. [#256, p.66]

A thrilling affair. [#252, p.63]