David Reed is obsessed with the dark. Every synapse in his brain aims to realize a stygian monstrosity from the most basic electronic utterances. Into the Void successfully gathers those expressions into a crawling black chorus of sound, like a cantata sung for the terror infinite and empty space can inspire.

This is exactly what would be expected from pairing Jamey Jasta with axeman Kirk Windstein, this sludgy metalcore amalgam showcases the best qualities of both parties. Undulating with vibrancy amid its steady cathartic release, their self-titled release propounds an infectious, somewhat transcendent alternative to lesser acts in the crowded heavy music marketplace.

Mick Barr's latest album sees him take the concept of a face melting guitar solo and turning it into a multi-faceted and layered composition. There is no room here for any straightforward musical structures to provide a basis for Barr to take a solo from; instead he just goes at it without any thoughts given to easing the listener in gently. The concept of free jazz is one familiar to most but here is an example of free metal, the guitar screeching away from the pack and leaving a scorched trail behind it.

I wasn't sure what to expect upon receiving this disc.  The stark, digitally treated artwork that adorns the heavy, textured sleeve has little in the way of credits or information, and no specific background on the artist, which is, I'm sure, his intent.  A bit of the Google finds that it is the debut release of Greek artist Thanasis Kaproulias, and none of this is needed to enjoy the disc, which lays comfortably between the rough experimentations of proto-industrialists like Throbbing Gristle and the modern day esoteric work of Francisco Lopez and Asmus Tietchens.

In some ways this work is reminiscent to the Gunter Muller disc I covered last year as it presents a percussionist using his instruments in a way that mostly does not resemble drums or anything usually associated with the style.  Instead it is heavily processed and treated to take on an entirely different quality and tone.  It is a very interesting work, but the presentation is almost a bit too familiar.

Having had the privilege and pleasure to catch this dazzlingly deviant duo in concert on several occasions this decade, this album of covers seemed all but inevitable. Here, much to my delight, the diminutive diva and her frizzy-haired ivory tickler present some of these practiced though never before released songs on disc for the very first time.

Our new semi-regular feature of notable new dance singles continues with reviews of Beyond the Wizard's Sleeve, Hercules & Love Affair, Underground Resistance, Matthew Dear and Fischerspooner.

The stark packaging adorning this CD gives no hint of the majesty of David Jackman's latest drone opus. Omega marks the third and final instalment of a trilogy that started with Sanctus on Robot Records and continued with Amen, also on Die Stadt.

Attention American Idol contestants! Luigi Tenco failed to make the final of the 1967 San Remo Festival. As a protest against the jury's taste in music, he shot himself in the head. The song Tenco performed was "Ciao Amore Ciao" and had I been judging he would still have pulled the trigger. However....

After a prolonged absence, Italy's Eidvlon re-emerge into the harsh light of day for the first time in seven years with Idolatriae, a heavy trove of dark mutterings and arcane rumblings extracted from the deepest recesses of both the human psyche and the dankest caverns of earth.

The late period Elvis sideburns that Albin Julius has been sporting in recent photos do not seem to be simply an aesthetic selection:  he has fully embraced the cult of rock and roll.  Although vestiges remain, he and the rest of the band have pushed away from the neofolk and avant garde martial trappings of the past into their own semi-perverted form of rock music.

The Room40 label is quickly establishing itself as a touchstone for oblique, esoteric electronic experimentation.  So on first glance, this album's cover art of a flower seems somewhat out of place among the austere design and digital graphic manipulations.  It is, however, a very appropriate image given that beyond all of the digital processing and trappings, what lies beneath the layers is a subtle, beautifully melodic work that retains the innate warmth of the acoustic instruments that form the source material of these tracks.

This is the final part of Nicolai Dunger's autobiographical musical trilogy, following on from the first two releases in 2005 and 2006, both of which are confusingly titled A Taste of Ra. In more ways than one, this last installment is probably his most adventurous musical exploration yet.

Every time an Earth album is released I maintain that it is a contender for being their best work. This is no exception. Taking their country sound even further south, this album sees the music take on a vibrant and colorful life of its own, a step away from the monochrome bleakness of Hex. Like the Biblical reference of the album's title, the imposing muscle of Earth's music has brought forth sweetness.

Guessmen nail fat pop choruses to rowdy dancefloor organic/digital hybridised belters, cementing them into their weird rag and bone musical world. With an alleyway lyrical eye for demented characters this trio pilot the line between cartoon, narratives and character pieces. Helmed by characters with sharp collars and bloody knuckles, their chip-and-pin medicine show molarises genres till only the vitals remain.

At first reference, this could easily end up pegged as a Pan Sonic side project, given that Ilpo Väisänen is one of the three members of Angel, but the music itself does not paint itself in that way, and other than the use of some textural electronic elements has no auditory connection with his other band. Don't take that as a slight against this project at all, it just an entirely different animal that, unfortunately, opens with a misstep that isn't disastrous, but isn't a high point either. The remaining three quarters, however, more than make up for it.

According to the label, this band was formed by writer/film-maker Philip Mullarkey to create music for and perform live with his art/film project Box.  The artists, who have collaborated with the likes of Bill Laswell, Jah Wobble, Fantomas, Melt Banana and Kronos Quartet, among others, met without any planning or preparation and simply improvised together over the span of two days.  They must have been a natural fit with one another, because the tracks presented here come together as a well composed suite of out there space rock/free jazz tracks rather than the live-to-tape improvisation that they truly are.

It would be fine by me if Belong were to repeat the lush distortion of their debut October Language forever. Instead, on Colorloss Record they turn down the bass a little and add lots of vocals that they process just shy of oblivion. All of which creates a feeling similar to listening to A Hard Day’s Night through your teeth.

Santiago, Chile's Un Festin Sagital weave electro-acoustic sounds with rock instruments and voices to create this unpredictable but compelling album. Harrowing background noises share space with patient guitar motifs for songs that are constantly churning and shifting into different modes and styles. Hints of progressive rock and traditional music serve to heighten and confound expectations, making this album a deliriously engaging experience.

Tuvan throat singer Soriah gets some help on analog synthesizer from Lana Guerra of Power Circus for this recording that leads the deceased back to the world of the living. Translated as "Offerings of Light to the Dead," it is a mesmeric beacon that creates an atmosphere all its own.