A sense of foreboding and emotional struggle is expertly crafted, so much so that at times it can feel like there’s little air and no escape. Outside of the songs, there’s a more uncanny, ineffable sense of power on the instrumental jig or reel passages of “Master Crowley’s” and “The New York Trader”. [Jul 2023, p.55]

The Future Never Waits (oh, that pesky future!) benefits from the addition of former Coil/Spiritualized/Waterboys keyboard player Thighpaulsandra, who appears to have opened up the band’s sound in such a way that seems almost effortless. [Jul 2023, p.52]

This is pleasant but forgettable music, dissolving the instant it hits the eardrum. [Jul 2023, p.52]

Archangel Hill is a great album. As dearly as I love her early work, there’s something about Collins’s sound here that feels just right. [Jul 2023, p.50]

A lifetime’s pain and a decade juggling mixtape fame with his trap life erupting in one magnificently choreographed molten flow of poetry. Not that it’s all full blast, Potter comes with the widescreen vision of Scarface or Ghetts, stepping back as necessary, philosophically patient. [Jul 2023, p.65]

The album’s first half is simultaneously some of Godflesh’s most aggro material and as gleaming and chromed as a Terminator that’s been burned down to its metal skeleton. Purge isn’t a completely boom-bap orientated album, though. “Lazarus Leper” is both one of the album’s longest tracks and one of its most old school. The primitive drum machine beat sounds like something that could have come off the group’s very first EP. [Jul 2023, p.51]

Dreamy stuff for sure, but tinged with a lingering sense of nightmare. [May 2023, p.60]

Here Dakar covers country with “Walking After Midnight” and “Love Hurts”, but the outstanding cuts are her takes on The Kinks’ “Stop Your Sobbing”, as once claimed by The Pretenders, and a remarkably affecting reggae treatment of the old Louis Armstrong chestnut “What A Wonderful World”. [Jun 2023, p.64]

This album feels more urgent and defiant than its predecessor. [Jun 2023, p.49]

The result is a project dripping with atmospheric sound and real emotional weight. [May 2023, p.64]

Obviously this is well-trodden ground, but even on the brink of corniness, the crunchy satisfaction of Sqürl’s sound makes them extremely listenable. [Jun 2023, p.60]

You might not always know what they are saying but the wails in “Iron Maiden” and foreboding synths of “(Crystal Aura Redux)” don’t need translating. The bleak production and relentless beats should keep us dancing all the way through the apocalypse. [Jun 2023, p.54]

The resulting heady musical cocktail that Portner serves up will be eagerly drained by his fan base, but the cloying bubble gum aftertaste may leave any newcomers feeling somewhat queasy. [May 2023, p.60]

The closing title track is a full ten minutes of ethereal synth drift. Tucked between these are a couple of neat facsimiles of the kind of mellow handclap bounce heard on Dance Floor Corporation’s scene-setting 1990 Ambient House compilation. But there are some clunkers too. [May 2023, p.54]

Romantiq is hypnotic, curious and, at its best, genuinely fresh and beautiful. [May 2023, p.54]

It’s the definition of method to madness. The sense of barely controlled chaos, occasionally lashing out in random directions, only adds to the wonder that it holds together and maintains momentum. [May 2023, p.61]

The group’s take on their core material has never been overly reverent, but they are in masterful command of the style’s essence, and their previous excursions beyond the boundaries mean they can keep it fully upgraded for novel deployments on cuts like the razor-sharp “Çıt Çıt Çedene”. [Jun 2023, p.65]

Played front to back it works as a dazzling kaleidoscope; on shuffle, every combination worked in a different way, with no weak links because the quality of each track is insanely high. Underground, resistant US rap par excellence. [Jun 2023, p.60]

Modern Cosmology, which pairs Sadier with Brazilian band Mombojó, go some way to sating that desire on debut album What Will You Grow Now?, their second release following an EP released in 2016. Some way is the operative term, it should be said, with album opener “Making Something” as prime an example as anything. Stereolab acolytes will peg that bubbling bass tone in a trice, while the keys of Chiquinho Moreira are something more akin to jazz funk with tropicalia dusting. [Jun 2023, p.55]

Virtuosity quickly shades into something inhuman, as every plectrum and drumstick lands inevitably – and thrillingly – on target. [Jun 2023, p.54]

The payoff is worth the effort. Those who’ve typecast Lombardo as strictly a metal/punk sticksman will be surprised by Rites Of Percussion. [Jun 2023, p.53]

Pieces Of Treasure is a moving album from an artist who knows these songs inside out and is smart enough to know when to set knowledge aside, to access each song’s elemental power. [Jun 2023, p.52]

As The Forest In Me progresses, it’s interesting to consider which sounds are made with purpose and which are accidental – what is substance and what is ephemeral. When locked in to Xylouris and White’s deeply connected sound, it can feel like great secrets are being offered up to the listener, but heard in passing it’s barely anything at all. What magic. [May 2023, p.59]

Lightning Dreamers may be over the top and all over the place, but that’s what it takes to project a complete picture of Mazurek’s vision. [Apr 2023, p.57]

The deep funk veteran garlands Black Thought’s words with a heavy bottom, making for an experience that’s less psychedelic and decorative than Cheat Codes. Although Black Thought doesn’t stray from the tendencies that distinguish his solo material from his work with The Roots. [Apr 2023, p.68]

Deeply scored with pitch-black humour, concrete riffs and the mucus rattling squalling of vocalist Zack Weil, Oozing Wound shift effortlessly from the piledriver bludgeoning that motivates “Hypnic Jerk” to the more sustained instrumental fury of “Crypto Fash”, without surrendering any of their creative firepower or ability to surprise. [May 2023, p.60]

On Scaring The Hoes, Brown and Peggy sound great together while offering few artistic revelations. [May 2023, p.52]

The album’s eight tracks meander, but they never get lost. “Basin” for example sounds like Brian Eno’s Music For Airports might if it were scaled down to be played in an apartment hallway instead of a spacious terminal. [May 2023, p.51]