I hate to use the phrase "return to form" to describe this album, as I have enjoyed most of Lawrence English's divergent recent efforts quite a bit, but Wilderness of Mirrors reminds me favorably of the darker, heavier albums that brought him to my attention in the first place (such as Kiri No Oto and It's Up To Us To Live).  Characteristically, English also offers an intriguing concept on Wilderness, but the primary appeal is simply that it is wonderful to finally get another substantial offering of what he does best.  That said, this effort does offer a few surprises, as Lawrence has picked up a few neat tricks from folks like My Bloody Valentine and Swans since he last surfaced in heavy drone mode.
Much to my delight, Medical Records has recently reissued two of the arguable jewels of the Severed Heads' discography: 1983's 
There may be some throwback elements on Ars Phoenix's most recent album, but for the most part it makes for great contemporary synth pop. Retaining a darker, and occasionally harsh, edge, the eight songs that comprise it work beyond just their mood, but as memorable, well-written songs as well.
Five years ago, this San Francisco DJ/producer released quite a massive, remarkable, and distinctive ambient epic called White Clouds Drift On and On, his first album under his own name.  Home is its follow-up and I have no idea quite what to make of it.  In some ways, it surpasses its wonderful predecessor in its lush, melancholy grandeur.  In other ways, however, its extreme length (almost 3 hours) coupled with its narrow, unwavering aesthetic serve to exaggerate its charms to the point of caricature or folly.  There are still some wonderful songs here, of course, but too much of a good thing yields rapidly diminishing returns.
In some ways, Gog’s new LP comes across as a rebirth of the project that keeps the best elements of Michael Bjella's work while pushing boundaries and expectations. The bleak, moody guitar noise is still there, culled from the best bits of metal and drone, but Gog manages to go further and make music that is challenging, but still memorable as songs, rather than just compositions.
Recorded between California, Texas, and England, Qui Mal y Pense reissues one of Smokey Emery's (Daniel Hipólito) most complex and nuanced works, and the third in his Soundtracks for Invisibility series. Created entirely from hand manipulated open reel tapes, it is a lush, dramatic series of compositions that would work very well as a true soundtrack, but are just fine as stand alone music.
I am fairly certain that this triple album is a lock for the most aptly named release of the year, as it is both unrelentingly melancholy and seemingly infinite (it clocks in at over two hours).  It is also excellent, as Dunn is one of the most reliably great ambient/minimalist drone artists.  While there is admittedly a somewhat exasperating interchangeability to these 19 songs, the sameness and epic length of The Infinite Sadness mostly work in Dunn's favor, as being sucked into an endless, dreamy loop can be quite a pleasant and mesmerizing experience in its own right.
This sprawling double-album is the second release from this Swedish guitar/organ space-rock duo and it absolutely floored me. Built primarily from improvisations, Bremen largely avoids most of the jamminess, heavy-handedness, and self-indulgence that normally make me want to avoid the genre.  At their worst, they offer up a pleasantly languorous and simmering strain of post-rock, but the handful of highlights on Second Launch are nuanced, haunting, slow-burning perfection. The best moments are easily some of the finest music that I have heard this year even though the complete album perhaps errs a bit on the sleepy and too-long side.
New Mexico's William Fowler Collins might have a smaller discography than others who work in similarly bleak moods and sounds, but the quality of each has been impeccable. These two new releases, one split with legendary noise artist Daniel Menche and the other a collaboration with Raven Chacon (Death Convention Singers), is up to the same standard, and conveys the barren and hostile, yet beautiful desert environment he hails from.
On their second LP, the duo of Scott Foust (Idea Fire Company) and Frans de Waard (Kapotte Muziek) chose to integrate more traditional instrumentation into their distinctive sound, namely bass guitar, overt synthesizer, and idiosyncratic rhythms. This was in a conscious attempt to pay tribute to one of both artists' favorite projects, Dome. While none of these six pieces sound directly like Graham Lewis & Bruce Gilbert's legendary project, that influence of bent post-industrial and playful absurdity resonates brilliantly throughout.
Considering its title is a hybrid of the Norwegian words for "sun" and "dust," I almost expected a drastic change from this duois usually frigid, frost-laden landscapes. Even more so upon finding out that the primary source material utilized by the duo was that of a trumpet, which to me seems like anything but a cold, isolationist instrument. There are some notable variations in the sound of Solst√∏v, but as a whole it remains a faithful addition to the Pjusk discography.
Shivers is a new jazz trio (of sorts) featuring Machinefabriek's Rutger Zuydervelt, though "anti-jazz" might be a more accurate descriptor given their willfully plodding rhythms and murky anti-virtuosity.  What the trio have going for them instead, however, is a distinctive strain of creepy, broken-sounding sci-fi brooding, which makes a great deal of sense for a band named after an early David Cronenberg film.  Appropriately, my opinion of this debut closely mirrors my opinion of almost every Cronenberg film that I have ever seen: an inspired aesthetic and some cool ideas, but it seems like it probably could have been a bit better.
A collaboration between these two artists makes perfect sense, given how both have carved out their individual niches working with rhythmic sounds in non-traditionally rhythmic situations. Russell Haswell has worked overtly in both realms, and his recent work with power electronics legends Consumer Electronics has him going as far as conventional techno beats. Pain Jerk's Kohei Gomi, on the other hand, has worked mostly as a harsh noise artist, but one of the few that has shaped harsh noise outbursts into ersatz rhythms. Split into two discs (one edited by Haswell, the other by Gomi), this is a sprawling, brilliant mass of sound culled from solo recordings and live performances that stand out strongly amongst both their other work.
Flame is only Skodvin's second solo album under his own name (following 2010's Flare), but he has long been quite a prolific fellow in both his Svarte Greiner solo guise and as one-half of Deaf Center.  While I do not yet have a comprehensive command of Erik’s entire oeuvre, this latest effort seems like a significant detour from the bleakly heavy drones that I normally associate with him.  Flame is still dark, of course, but it is more of a gently smoldering darkness than a crushing, oppressive one.  More importantly, this is a wonderful album, as Skodvin's lighter touch, clarity, and increased use of space combine to bring his excellent ideas into sharp relief.
Last year's Collected Works Vol. I – The Moog Years was one of my favorite albums in recent memory, so I was very much looking forward to this suite of entirely new modular synth pieces from Gengras.  Naturally, my anticipation turned out to be justified, but the meditative, pastoral Ishi has a radically different feel than its moodier, more haunting predecessor.  While I happen to vastly prefer moodiness to serenity, Geddes' compositional talents and intuitive understanding of both space and pacing ensure that Ishi is still a characteristically enjoyable effort.
Over the span of a far-too-short 20 minutes, Ritual Howls manages to plow through a variety of styles that all rank amongst my favorites, with a lo-fi level of production that would make any "true kvlt" black metal band jealous. Even with all this ugliness, however, the material is more memorable than dissonant and at times leans into true song structures that are more memorable than what similar artists usually do.
After what almost seemed like a begrudging festival reunion to play Streetcleaner, it was exciting to see that the pieces were coming together for a true Godflesh reunion, and even more so when the likelihood of new material appearing got higher and higher. Unexpectedly announced as a precursor to the upcoming full-length album, Decline & Fall sounds as if it could have been recorded around 1993 through 1995, because it has such archetypical Godflesh sound, which is reassuring to say the least.
As elements of New Orleans Bounce music has been slowly drifting outside of its largely southern borders, Big Freedia, also known as Freddie Ross, has become the unofficial ambassador for the genre, making various high profile TV appearances and rather memorable live performances.  Just Be Free is his first true full-length album, and has the polish that could gain new fans, but never strays far from his roots and manages to stay undeniably fun.
