Visionist’s ‘A Call to Arms’ Is Surprisingly Peaceful
Visionist’s A Call to Arms is a success. Louis Carnell has dialed down on the noise and written the most straightforward, emotionally-charged work of his career.
Visionist’s A Call to Arms is a success. Louis Carnell has dialed down on the noise and written the most straightforward, emotionally-charged work of his career.
Yellow River Blue is the latest in a string of success stories for electronic producer Yu Su, and it's her boldest, most eclectic statement yet.
Krautrock’s Detlef Weinrich and folk’s Emmanuelle Parrenin team up for Jours de Grave, and it’s damn near perfect. It feels too organic and alive to be called “avant-garde”, even though it is.
Ulla and Perila, two experimental producers on the vanguard of modern ambient, take their talent to new heights on LOG ET3RNAL, their first collaborative LP under the LOG moniker.
Rather than continue to experiment with more bells and whistles, studio guru Actress has stepped back and experimented with the most elemental of all sounds: the voice.
Call Super's Every Mouth Teeth Missing is like its own digital biosphere, rife with the sounds of the forest and the sounds of the studio alike.
What sets experimental pop's Jonnine apart on Blue Hills is her attention to detail, her poetic lyricism, and the indelibly personal touch her sound bears.
Tricky's Fall to Pieces gives the impression of an artist struggling to sustain his vision, leaning on his collaborators to make up for the lack of it. Like on the last two albums, Tricky sounds too restrained here.
What sets Ghetto Kumbé apart is their ability to mix the traditional and modern so seamlessly in their music. One minute you're on a Colombian dance floor, and the next you're singing along with the tribes of West Africa.
88 is not the most consistent Actress album to date, but it is probably the wonkiest. Parts of it sound like relics from the analog era; others sound like nothing else on earth.
The most impressive thing about Nahash's Flowers of the Revolution is that it's so unabashedly political despite being almost devoid of vocals. The politics come through in the struggle of contrasting elements.
Because it occasionally breaks new ground, Daniel Avery's Love + Light avoids being an afterthought from start to finish. The best moments here are generally the hardest-hitting ones.