I never quite understood the popularity of Pocahaunted and I was pretty underwhelmed by the LA Vampires/Zola Jesus collaboration last year, so I figured it was pretty safe to conclude that Amanda Brown's artistry just wasn't for me.  However, a helpful acquaintance recently sent me a link to this very amusing and heavily stylized video and I now realize that I was far too premature in my dismissal. So Unreal twists pop music into something truly weird, wonderful, and unique during its strongest moments despite being somewhat inconsistent and a bit narrow.

On my first time listening through Radiant Intervals, I was concerned that whatever magic Eleh was channeling previously, the source was fading. What was once rich in detail and emotional warmth had become cold and clinical. Yet, this was a hasty and trying the music again and again, I find the tones enveloping me like a cocoon. Considering this music cold was a mistake but it is clinical in a different sense to the usual critical context of the word. It is clinical in a restorative, healing way.

This solo debut initially had me pretty baffled, as it is stylistically all over the map and bears little resemblance to Manley's previous work with Trans Am and The Fucking Champs.  There is a perfectly logical explanation, however, as Life Coach is intended as a homage to the work of legendary German producer Connie Plank.  Of course, the fact that Phil is essentially attempting to pay tribute to the entire krautrock canon on a single album is probably even more baffling still (as well as inherently doomed), but he has the instrumental and engineering prowess to at least make an intermittently impressive show of it.

One of the main stumbling blocks that people have with Severed Heads' discography is that Tom Ellard's long, slow evolution from harsh tape loop experimentalism to hooky electronic pop has resulted in a lot of albums that are either too outré for people looking for "pop" or too straightforward and comparatively toothless for fans that loved his early works like Since the Accident.  The precise point at which those two sides of Ellard's vision struck the perfect balance is highly debatable, but I have always believed 1991's Cuisine to be the Sevs' definitive synthesis of edginess, unpredictability, and tight songcraft.

There has never been an album by Nina Nastasia I didn't like. Sure, I have my favorites, and on those my favorite songs, but I've never been disappointed. I also know what to expect in terms of her songwriting, which is always exceptional. The formula and style haven't varied much from record to record, though different elements are often accentuated. What I do notice is a steady refinement and ever increasing mastery of subtle details. Her introspective lyrics continue to explore the territories of friendship, love, longing, and loss, and her strong and powerfully feminine voice continues to elucidate deep emotional responses from within me.

There is an obvious sense of isolation, both overt and implied, within this album. As a young composer in the culturally restricted country of Iran, the hushed textures and quiet moments feel forbidden, and therefore all the more attractive to hear. In addition, the quiet, meditative passages are occasionally broken up by sharp, loud outbursts that magnify sense of paranoia in listening to the proceedings.

Wire's last album, Object 47, admittedly never fully clicked with me. It was definitely a good disc, but it didn’t ever feel truly like Wire to these ears. The heavy use of digitally treated guitar and synthesizers to create "pop" music came across feeling more like a Colin Newman solo album, and also rather close to his Githead project. Red Barked Tree, on the other hand, is more organic and also channels a bit of that brilliant genre-breaking schizophrenia that made Chairs Missing and 154 such classics.

Will and Dani's 32nd full-length album suffers from many of the same flaws found on their second record. Broken up into 29 distinct songs, Capri sees Celer attempting to alleviate the monotony of their mostly monochromatic music by introducing intermittent asides. Unfortunately, many of the songs represent only a nominal change, and the record frequently sinks under the weight of its own routine.

Important Records has fast become the finest outlet for minimalism I can think of, reissuing landmark recordings and providing a platform for works by new and established artists. This double LP produced in conjunction with Black Pollen Press celebrates the changing face of minimalist composition over the last four decades; two archive recordings and two new pieces showing how enthralling and detailed this kind of music can get.

Out of the two latest Eleh releases, this split LP with Ellen Fullman comes out as the champion. Here are two sides of stunning contemporary minimalism; Eleh pushes about electrons like a quantum choreographer while Fullman pulls tones out of metal with her fingers. Both pieces are engaging and despite their differences in execution, they complement each other like two lovers in union.

Canadian-born but based in Kobe, Japan, Tim Olive's work in the realms of abstract sound and composition is unique in that it rarely is a solo endeavor. Instead, his approach is that music should be collaborative, and thus these two recent works feature him and his slew of home made and non-musical instruments working alongside similar minded artists, in this case Kyoto's Takuji Naka and Calgary percussionist Chris Dadge. The two albums are certainly consistent with each other in approach, but also stand alone as distinct entities as well, linked by Olive's touch and artistry.

Francisco López has been active and rather prolific for 40 years, and A Bunch of Stuff (1980-2020) is the first true retrospective release he has assembled thus far. While there have been a multitude of compilations or boxed sets, those consisted largely of thematic releases or previously unreleased works. This 12 hour USB drive, consisting of uncompressed excerpts from 138 pieces and categorized by style, acts as probably the best, and most thorough, introduction to his staggering discography. Standing alone as a diverse and compelling compilation, it also serves as a gateway work for anyone looking to further explore his lengthy career.

In recent years, it seems like each new Dead C release is inspired by a different extreme self-imposed constraint or contrarian impulse for self-sabotage. Obviously, the trio have always been unwaveringly devoted to making challenging and polarizing art, but they are also admirably devoted to continual reinvention (and presumably to repeatedly wrong-footing their audience as well). This latest EP is a bit of a puzzle though, as it feels less like the product of a focused overarching vision than it does an eclectic mixed bag of varying threads ("broken, shambolic blues" and "gnarled guitar tone worship" spring most immediately to mind). Some of the trio's searching forays into uncharted territory on Unknowns definitely yield more compelling results than others though, so longtime fans will likely find something to love even if the entire EP can be tough to fully embrace. Given that, Unknowns would not be an ideal starting point for the curious, as the band seem to be consciously not playing to their strengths, but they are at least doing things wrong in some very interesting ways.

This latest release from the Opalio brothers documents their incendiary live performance with recurring collaborator Jean-Marc Montera at 2018’s Reevox-Nuit D’Hiver festival in Marseilles. Generally, live albums are not my preference (outside of iconic jazz line-ups), but the difference between a "live" and a "studio" recording is largely an irrelevant and purely academic one with My Cat is an Alien: both are completely spontaneous, so the only real difference is that people happened to be watching this time. Consequently, the primary appeal of Nuit d'Hiver lies in how Montera’s presence steers the brothers' signature psychedelia into somewhat wilder, more unpredictable territory. Admittedly, Montera is a recurring figure precisely because he has an especially deep understanding of the Opalios' vision and always brings welcome enhancements to it, so Nuit d'Hiver is still predicable in one sense: it is another strong addition to the MCIAA discography. It may not be quite as strikingly novel as some other MCIAA collaborations, given Montera's history and familiarity with the Opalios' work and ethos, but it is nevertheless a characteristically absorbing swirl of deep space lysergia.

Given how many achingly gorgeous songs Mary Lattimore has released over the last few years, I was not exactly clamoring for any significant changes to either her aesthetic or her working methods. However, when I learned that she had flown out to Cornwall to record with Neil Halstead, my expectations for Silver Ladders nevertheless increased dramatically. And for the most part, those intimidatingly high expectations were met with this album, though this is still very much a Mary Lattimore album rather than the Lattimore/Mojave 3 or Lattimore/Slowdive collaboration of my dreams (though "Til a Mermaid Drags You Under" feels damn close to such a transcendent union). For the most part, however, Silver Ladders is exactly what I would expect from Lattimore at this point in her career: a near-flawless collection of tenderly sublime, nuanced, and emotionally resonant harp reveries enhanced with a subtle palette of effects. Whether or not Silver Ladders surpasses any of Lattimore's previous great albums is difficult to say, as my feelings on that vary by the day, but it definitely belongs among her most memorably beautiful statements to date.

This record was one of the more impressive artifacts to emerge in 2010. Combining music and moving images in a novel way, its uniqueness ensures it will be a talked about collectors item for years to come. Discerning listeners will favor the discombobulated collage aesthetic while visual arts aficionados will be keen to witness the zoetropic animations encoded on the vinyl first hand.

Supersilent have always lurked at the furthest fringes of jazz, my first recommendations to listen to them usually came from those who were more into Eric Dolphy and Albert Ayler than the kind of stuff I was listening to at the time. With 10, the group have picked out the more traditionally jazzish elements of their improvisations and focused on them. The result is not a straight jazz album, it’s not a straight anything. Labyrinthine but uncluttered, Supersilent again show that they are unwilling to remain in any kind of musical stasis.

While electronic heavy krautrock inspired jams are far from obscure in this day and age, Ilitch is in the uncommon position of being one of the earlier practitioners of the genre who are still active, and with the vigor they always had.

Although she has taken part in a multitude of collaborations, as well as having an impressive resume as a visual artist, this album is Bullock's first true "album" to be released. Consisting of four unified conceptual pieces and two distinct separate ones, Ray of Dark demonstrates a sense of ability that many similar artists strive for in the twilight of their careers.

Disappears' 2010 debut (Lux) didn’t connect with me at all, largely because the band's more Neu!-influenced elements were often buried beneath busy, heavily distorted guitars: it wasn't bad, but it didn't conspicuously stand out from a lot of other bands either. This time around, Disappears went with a more spacious sound that places the focus squarely on their killer rhythm section and all of the pieces seem to have now fallen properly into place.  Guider finds a nice balance between precise motorik repetition, muscle, and deadpan urban cool.