Since the Afghan Whigs called it quits a decade ago, frontman Greg Dulli has been quietly releasing a stream of solid, occasionally fantastic albums with his current band, the Twilight Singers. Dulli's latest release is his first with the Singers since recording the Gutter Twins' debut with former Screaming Trees vocalist and frequent collaborator Mark Lanegan.

More than a decade into their career, the evolution of Natural Snow Buildings continues to surprise me: Waves of the Random Sea might be the most accessible album that Mehdi and Solange have released to date (in a good way, fortunately).  It might also be their masterpiece.  In any case, they've clearly made a lot of progress in broadening their palette of moods, as there is not much here that could be categorized as crushing, menacing, seething with dread, or oppressively sad.  Instead, this album occupies somewhat lighter, more spacious territory and is mostly filled with drone-tinged, temporally ambiguous acoustic folk instrumentals (albeit of the most lysergic and warped variety).  More importantly, it is absolutely amazing.  This is one of the most vibrant and multilayered albums that I have ever heard.

With each project providing a side of the album (or half of a CD), the whole is a series of dark compositions that are as complex as they are intimidating. The best part, however, is how these nuanced pieces sound like no one else.

Pairing one of Matthew Bower's newer projects with Jenks Miller’s minimalist metal band is a wise move for Turgid Animal, and this 10" delivers the expected amount of guitar-focused chaos from both artists.

Over the past few albums, Jean Hervé-Peron and Zappi Diermaier’s version of Faust have been getting more and more into the rock side of their krautrock. On this latest release, they have fully embraced rock and roll to the point where rock has become pulverised and the roll is in free-fall. Hints of classic rock (as in 1950s rock, not ‘70s dad rock) are smashed into atoms and reconstituted as something new, something loud and Something Dirty.

Ghostly International presents SMM: Context as a vaguely philosophical release centered around the qualities that film soundtracks, classical music, and ambient music share, but I think its lack of pretense is part of what makes it great. On one level, SMM: Context is just a collection of eleven songs from eleven electronic artists, including Leyland James Kirby, Jacaszek, Aidan Baker, and Kyle Bobby Dunn. On another level, it's a very coherent and fluid record filled with beautiful songs and sustained by a shared vision.

For their third LP for Sublime Frequencies, the group has put together a stunning collection of trance-inducing works. Yet, there are two things that set Beatte Harab apart from Group Doueh’s previous albums. The recording quality is a step above the others: granted the overall quality is not high fidelity but gone is the murk so all the instruments and singers can be heard distinctly. Secondly, Doueh himself has moved more into the background. His deft touch of the fretboard is undiminished but he confines himself to the back of the mix, his playing developing the overall shape of the music without dominating the other performers.

The latest opus from these prolific and chameleonic Swedes finds them in full-on primal rock mode, unearthing another batch of jagged, bludgeoning, and repetition-obsessed songs and reminding me that rock music can still be a bit dangerous and scary. There's a big twist this time around, however, as the Defekts have added a very noteworthy fifth member: the rather singular Daniel Higgs, formerly of Dischord art-punk stalwarts Lungfish. The addition proves to be an inspired move, as Higgs' intense, somewhat unsettling persona serves to highlight the darker, weirder side of the band.

A sensitive and spacious work, To R.S. utilizes a variety of traditional instruments (guitars, pianos, natural sounds, etc) in a completely different context, dissolving the known sounds into sparse, pure tones and subtle variations. As a work dedicated to composer Robert Schumann, it’s quite an accomplished slice of minimalism in its own right.

When I reviewed Bionulor’s debut release a bit less than two years ago, I complimented his conceptual use of "sound recycling," but felt the compositions lacked focus and structure. On this sophomore release, Sebastian Banaszczyk has definitely stepped up his game, and the results are quite satisfying

A limited cassette release of an even more limited CD-R, Chicago's Sun Splitter, in the span of around 30 minutes, condense all of what I consider to be the best moments of the past 40 years of metal. With elements of drone, doom, industrial, and even classic rock, it all comes together as a perfectly conceived release.

In the duo 39 Clocks, Juergen Gleue upset everyone from beer-loving Bavarians to Joseph Beuys. Apparently, shitting on organs, playing vacuum cleaners, mocking the art world and using a drum machine saw them regularly abused and hurled from a variety of scenes. Phantom Payn Daze is the sound of Gleue recorded solo in the 1990s after a period over-immersed in drink and drugs. It adheres to the Clocks' version of beauty: as simple as rural blues and raw as early psych-pop, with a beguiling twang and metronomic propulsion looking ahead to Tarwater and back to The Velvet Underground.

Tim Hecker has made a career out of releasing reliably excellent albums, but aside from rare departures like 2002's Van Halen-inspired My Love is Rotten to the Core, he has always stuck very closely to the hissing, crackling melancholy that he is known for. Ravedeath, 1972 certainly contains more of that (which I am perfectly happy with), but finds Hecker edging out of his comfort zone a little more than I would expect.  The raw material for this album originates from "live" recordings made with a pipe organ at a Reykjavik church, and that organ often emerges from Hecker's digital fog in surprisingly pure form.

Dawnbringer is Chris Black, a contemporary metal musician who writes and produces all of his own material and performs most of it on record. His fourth full-length album is superb, finding inspiration in traditional heavy metal forms and injecting them with Black's own character and creativity.

Psychedelic folk stalwart Ben Chasny's newest album speaks volumes through its packaging. Small observations hint at the nature of the music within: tranquil cover art picturing three hand-painted, mystic animal figures; a dedication to the late Dr. Ragtime in the liner notes; and the album's vivid title, Asleep on the Floodplain, referencing a peaceful state of rest and rejuvenation amidst a greater chaos.

The best description of Ashley Paul's music that I can think of is that it sounds like she heard a Jandek album one day and thought "Yes!  This is exactly what I want to do!  But better, obviously."  I mean that in the best possible sense though, even if it is bizarre to hear a presumably well-adjusted, conservatory-trained Brooklyn composer make something that resembles very creepy, sociopathic, and unsettling outsider art.  Heat Source is a wonderfully broken-sounding, discordant, and challenging effort.

Disparition is the solo project of Brooklyn composer Jon Bernstein, who is best known as the man behind the music for Welcome to Night Vale.  Most of his previous non-Night Vale work has been in the ambient/ambient-techno veins, but this latest release is a wildly ambitious departure, enlisting a large cast of disparate collaborators for a stylistically eclectic This Mortal Coil-style tour de force.  Clocking in at almost 2 hours, Granicha can be a bit of an overwhelming and disorienting listen, but it somehow still manages to err on the side of far too many good ideas rather than too few.

Franz Kafka died of starvation on June 3rd, 1924, his throat cinched by laryngeal tuberculosis. The intravenous delivery of food to sick patients wouldn’t be invented for another 35 years and the swelling in Kafka’s throat caused by the infection made swallowing even water difficult. Forbidden from speaking by his doctor at the sanatorium in Kierling, Austria, Kafka would often communicate with his friends and visitors by writing small notes on scraps of paper. Some such scraps were less notes and more fragments or disconnected ideas, phrases impossible to understand without context. It’s something Max Brod, Kafka’s friend and literary executor, recalls in the opening pages of the booklet that accompanies Joseph Clayton Mills’s The Patient. "Usually these notes were mere hints; his friends guessed the rest," he writes. Mills, accompanied by Olivia Block, Noé Cuéllar (Coppice), Steven Hess (Pan•American, Haptic, Innode), and Jason Stein take a shot at interpreting those fragments on this record, using Mills’s textual score to trace a line around Kafka’s final abraded thoughts.

Drumm’s latest is quite an unusual and expectation-subverting one, given that his previous releases for the label have largely been genre-defining noise masterpieces. Trouble is definitely not that, nor does it bear much in common with any of Kevin's other major efforts.  Billed as "54-minute excursion into the netherworld of the audio spectrum," the piece is an extremely quiet and amorphous experiment in queasily dissonant harmonies that teeters dangerously close to being complete silence.

Liz Harris is becoming an increasingly complex and compelling artist, as her discography has started making unexpected leaps into the past that feel like leaps into the future.  Originally recorded in Portugal in 2011 with only a four-track and a piano, Ruins feels like a bold yet natural progression from last year's excellent The Man Who Died in His Boat (itself recorded from 2008 and 2010).  Consequently, it is completely unclear whether Liz is moving towards a simpler, more naked approach in general or if this is just a one-off experiment before she unleashes another salvo of reverb-soaked dreaminess à la Alien Observer/Dream Loss.  Regardless of its place in Grouper's continued evolution, however, Ruins is yet another fine album, boasting several of Harris's strongest compositions to date.