I can't remember the last time that I was this wrong-footed and bewildered by an album.  Ostensibly, this is a soundtrack for a silent Ho Tzu Nyen film, but it is difficult to imagine music this jarring accompanying anything.  It's also quite difficult to process that this is even a Black to Comm album, as it sounds mostly like being terrorized in a nightmare by Scott Walker or an undead Jamie Stewart.  I am not sure that is necessarily a good thing (a bit nerve-jangling, actually), but Marc Richter has definitely convinced me that he is capable of making some very bold, unique, and uncompromising music.

Robert Haigh’s latest piano-based album is his first for US-based label Unseen Worlds. It has a finely crafted pace with such richness and delicate variety that even the most languid and pristine tracks avoid the doldrums of melancholy.

Date Palms’ Gregg Kowalsky has been atypically quiet over the last several years, as his last solo full-length was 2009's inspired and fitfully mesmerizing Tape Chants. I am a huge fan of tape loops, so it would have absolutely delighted me if Kowalsky had spent most of the last decade secretly deepening and perfecting that side of his art. It is certainly possible that he has been, but L'Orange, L'Orange is not Tape Chants II. Instead, Kowalsky consciously set out to make an album that "felt like a human made it." He certainly succeeded at that, as L'Orange, L'Orange is a warm, drone-based twist on Date Palms' sun-dappled psychedelia. Aesthetically, it also shares some common ground with a lot of the Cluster-loving analog synth fare so much in vogue these days, yet the best moments achieve a lushly enveloping, meditative bliss that is uniquely Kowalsky-ian.

Few people have played as crucial a role in shaping the experimental music landscape as Terry Riley, yet his impact and historical significance have not necessarily translated into a discography of timeless classics ("Poppy Nogood" excepted). This particular reissue, originally released on Shandar back in 1972, still sounds remarkably fresh and contemporary though. Part of that is pure luck, as we are currently in the midst of an aesthetically similar analog synthesizer renaissance, yet these two improvised performances would probably seem immortal and transcendently consciousness-altering in almost any cultural context. Though the two pieces take somewhat different paths and evoke different moods, the overall experience is like being present at an organ mass that slowly transforms into a mass hallucination where all the notes bleed and swirl together in a lysergic haze of otherworldly harmony.

As a devout fan of drone's weirder fringes, I was casually aware of Razen before this album, but I had never taken the time to dive particularly deeply into their bizarre sonic sorcery: Brecht Ameel & Kim Delcour have historically erred a bit too much on the side of shrillness for my taste. I certainly admired their frayed, idiosyncratic, and somewhat unhinged approach to the genre, but it still made for a somewhat rough listen. This latest release, their first for Three:Four, falls quite squarely in my comfort zone though. For one, there are no bagpipes or modular synths to be found, just an organ and a curious array of traditional acoustic instruments spanning several cultures. More importantly, the band believes that "a presence" surfaced in the church where they recorded these improvisations and that the resulting tapes were supernaturally altered in some way. I am not a big believer in the spirit world, but whatever transpired certainly led to a uniquely compelling album, as the best pieces on The Xvoto Reels take ritualistic acoustic drone to a wonderfully hallucinatory and haunting place.

Chartier's work is never something that could be considered "easy" to listen to, but the result is always a rich, rewarding experience. Recurrence, which is a project that was splintered off of one of his earliest works Series, follows this trend. It might be difficult at times, but he has consistently excelled in creating work that captures the intersection of music, visual art, architecture, and science, and again, Recurrence is no different.

Reto Mäder is quite a prolific artist, from his solo work as RM74, with Steven Hess in Ural Umbo to his role in Pendulum Nisum. His more metal-influenced work as Sum of R (Mäder with guitarist Julia Wolf) has a relatively small discography, with this being his second full-length work other than a few self-released CDRs. Ride Out the Waves makes for a dense, psych tinged experiment that recalls some of the best moments of early Godflesh, juxtaposed with abstract free-form experimentation.

Kang continues to show his range and vision as a composer and ensemble leader. Visible Breath is a startling album which takes many of the strands of 20th century composition and weaves them into new musical fabrics, far from imitation and full of innovation. His music hangs like a specter in the room, the notes either merging into each other like a ghost passing through a wall.

As the title suggests, this live album was recorded in London’s current hot spot for weirdo music and finds the trio taking their work further into the inner recesses of free improvisation. As expected, given their track record as a group and as solo performers in their own rights, Café Oto/London swerves between danger and calm; safety and turmoil. Every adjective ever thrown at free jazz is applicable but, more often than not, inadequate.

Across 13 tracks of sample abuse and digital detritus, the debut album from this duo is a hyper-kinetic, violent outburst of occasionally musical noise that mixes up some odd concoctions that sometimes work, and sometimes don't.

Considering Roden's recent album Proximities, an abstract, lo-fi piece of sound art, this is an odd step. Created through studio improvisations that were explicitly aimed at avoiding electronic instruments, it becomes a very different beast, which is made even more apparent once actual vocals appear, for better or worse.

Now on their third full-length, School of Seven Bells have evolved into playing a sleek, manicured style of dream-pop constructed with the live experience in mind. While I have mixed feelings on the album start to finish, Ghostory does contain some powerful moments within its palette of sounds.

This might be heresy to some folk out there, but Neil Campbell’s work as Astral Social Club far outweighs that of anything done in his time with either the A-Band or Vibracathedral Orchestra. The floating membership of Campbell’s club is bolstered here by Arttu Partinen, a member of Finland’s brickheaded jamsters Avarus. One side of this lathe falls flailing but focused into the pit while the other still clings to the top rung of Jacob’s ladder.

Volcano the Bear continue their esoteric but quickly comprehendible sounds and structure via this lathe-cut 8" single, the debut release on the Alt.Vinyl label. This is the second piece of seven inch VTB vinyl in a many months to come out of the North East of England, and shows the band investing solid musical experiments with new labels, outside of their regular album schedule.

This album aims to recapture a childlike innocence and wonder by combining cartoon sounds with more exciting and grown up arrangements. The result is an enjoyable album that is like bubble gum for the ears, fun at first but it loses its flavor after a short time.

This reissue of Jeremy Schmidt’s album as Sinoia Caves is a nice homage to the analog synth pomp of '70s prog and psychedelica, from the music right down to the fonts used on the sleeve. The music is excellent but The Enchanter Persuaded isn’t intended as a manual in how to shake things up using a synthesiser; it’s a straight up tribute to synths as how they used to be played.

I'm not waxing nostalgic for the "good old days," but the bold step in issuing three vinyl only 7" singles is very reminiscent of the merry, whimsical Stereolab which burst onto the scene and warmed everybody's hearts by a flood of 7" singles.

Peel Sessions releases have classically served a purpose only for thecollectors or die-hard fans but I can safely say that this release isan essential key to anybody's Galaxie 500 collection and should not be missed.

This strange mix of early '90s work and more recent material, showcases some of the many moods of Steve Stapleton. Classic cut-and-paste insanity from Nurse With Wound’s middle period has been paired with some of Stapleton’s powerful ambient vocal pieces from the last few years. This compilation does not make much sense on paper and perhaps is a little misguided in terms of its scope but it does sound brilliant from every angle.

Great rock 'n' roll bands can be deceptively hard to find. There's too often an empty gap between the dime-a-dozen bands playing to alt-rock radio, punk/hardcore traditionalism, and the toothless, blog-hyped indie scene. Thankfully, The Men exist outside all of those spheres as one of the finest rock bands around.