A distinctly different release than his last, El Tren Fantasma, this album not only acts as part of an overall larger project (a collaboration with faculty at Durham University), but also focuses on nature, rather than that disc’s use of man made transportation. Not just nature, but an attempt to capture the essence of of Lindisfarne Island as it would have sounded to St. Cuthbert in 700 AD. The result is an album that is a bit less compositionally oriented than El Tren Fantasma, but one that does an impeccable job at capturing a feel and an environment via audio.

Innocuous enough as a sampler of some deeper, more sprawling artistic discography, The Source Family OST serves a second function as the audio equivalent of an ad pamphlet for its titular utopian cult. Nothing about them needs embellishing; Father Yod's colorful DIY psych collective is as convinced of their own message as they hope you'll be. Every aspect of the Family seems to match the beautiful, spontaneous mythos they spread, even Yod's appropriately spectacular demise. Behind all the posturing and spiritual gravitas, though, laid real music, and a group who made some interesting ideas come to life.

A side band of Maurice De Jong (Gnaw Their Tongues) with Eric from Mowlawner, Aderlating embraces some of the same power electronics/harsh noise sensibilities, but casts them within a different sonic murk, alongside demonic black metal snarls and flailing free jazz drumming. Somehow, those disparate parts work together in ways that sometimes baffle in the best possible way.

Agarttha is a solo project of Francesca Marongiu, who is also half of the Italian project Architeuthis Rex, and to some extent that project is reflected in this album. A similar noise/industrial/metal hybrid shines through, but Marongiu’s project stands out with its slightly lighter, vocal centered approach, and the six songs manage to capture occasional moments of blackened, dissonant experimentalism with segments of pure, unadulterated beauty.

In his March 3rd interview with Ibiza Voice, Martin Müller proudly lists the synths, drum machines, and effects units he used to make Behind, his first album without youANDme partner Daniel Stroeter. Among others, he names: the Waldorf Microwave 1 and Roland Alpha Juno 2, the TR-808 and TR-909, the Jomox Xbase 888, a Verona DRM, a Moogerfooger, a Sherman Filterbank, and various other resonators, compressors, and equalizers. He loves his gear, and every song on Behind begins and ends with it. Whatever the results— jet black Detroit house, dub, ambient noise, or some other variety of electronic music— Martin’s machines matter most. Everything else comes second.

Aquarelle's second album for Students of Decay caught me off-guard a bit, as Ryan Potts' aesthetic has evolved noticeably from 2011's Sung in Broken Symmetry, but not in the expected way at all.  Rather than playing up his talents for crackle, hiss, and artful obfuscation, August Undone mostly jettisons those elements in favor of a kind of a jacked-up, guitar-noise-heavy pastoralism.  While I was a little disappointed that none of the new pieces were immediately striking as Symmetry's "With Verticals," this more understated follow-up is a more complex, varied, and lushly absorbing whole.

This new album continues the trend of Michael Page's 2012 album, There I Saw the Grey Wolf Gaping, balancing massive, epic length pieces with shorter ones and a slew of diverse collaborators (Nocturnal Emissions, Vomit Arsonist, Slogun, and others) to push his work even further into its own unique, esoteric sonic space.

Mixing old with new both in technology and imagery, Montreal's Aun (Martin Dumais and Julie Leblanc) capture the audio aesthetic of time worn 1970s low budget sci fi film soundtracks via a malfunctioning TV, sometimes erring into abrasive territories, and other times coming across like lost four track Tangerine Dream demos rotting in an attic. Modern MIDI equipment clashes with unreliable analog technologies to produce a sound that is as retro sounding as it is innovative.

Sachiko has been involved in the Japanese music scene since the late 1980s, but recent releases have shown a growing sense of experimentation that is as beautiful as it is dark, quite often within the same composition, such as on Loka in the Black Ship. Sometimes delicate, sometimes harsh, but never forgettable, it is a high point in a strong run of solo and collaborative records.

On the second solo release from Shane Broderick (of the delightfully juvenile and inappropriate Twodeadsluts Onegoodfuck), there is a sense of developing composition and maturity to be had, mixing his harsh noise and power electronic tendencies with more of a dark ambient sensibility. Paired with the Dutch project on the other side of the 10" going for a death industrial/Cold Meat Industries throwback sound, there is a great old school noise sensibility to be had on here.

For the debut recording under the Innode moniker, Stefan Németh works closely with exceptional drummers Steven Hess and Bernhard Breuer on this conceptual album that intentionally juxtaposes human imposed rhythms (both programmed and played) with live and machine generated improvisations. The result is a compelling, synthetic heavy sound, that especially hits its stride on the B side that transitions from conceptual sound to engaging music.

Low's newest record represents, as many past releases do for the band, an intentional and successful return to past ideas. As a listener more entrenched in their early material, this record was a welcome and familiar return to a form I recognized. Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker (along with Steve Garrington this time) have decided to craft The Invisible Way with a serious emphasis on empty space and atmosphere by way of Jeff Tweedy, handling production duties, and elevate the subtle country influences of much of their work to the foreground. This is a gorgeous, glacial record that tempts tearful choruses at each slow turn.

Kinski's first record in a few years sounds like a good band stuck between two polar opposite sides of their own creative influences. This time around, they lean heavy on grungy punk rock and fast tempos, leaving much of the slower bits to stagnate. The guitar work, whose slow burn melodies always seemed like a savvy subversion of their normally intended purpose, are played straight for most of the songs to compliment the lyrics. While this is definitely a new direction for the band, it is hard to say if it will be embraced by fans who preferred these elements more subtly.

Situated right in the middle of West Africa's musical hotbed (Ghana and Nigeria are close neighbors), the country of Burkina Faso has remained relatively unanthologized thus far, a situation that Analog Africa's Samy Ben Redjeb decided to remedy after hearing Amadou Ballaké's "Renouveau."  Unfortunately, Ballaké was not exactly the tip of a great iceberg of undiscovered brilliance–he was very nearly the entire damn iceberg.  That said, there are definitely a few other good songs by other artists on Bambara Mystic Soul, but almost half of the album is consumed by Ballaké and he is very much the star of the show (deservedly).

The 49 Americans were a collision of proficient, working musicians and enthusiastic amateurs, one of many projects in the often improvised history of the London Musicians Collective. The inspired, thoughtful, jaunty tunefulness of We Know Nonsense is partly inspired by Julie Andrews.

On this terse (ten minutes exactly) little 7" single, Canada's master of harsh noise walls indulges in his sonic obsessions once again. Sam McKinlay proves that for a style associated with monochromatic approaches, there is much more to be explored, even if edges just so slightly into uncomfortable.

As an artist, Kirkegaard has made it his focus to create art that is as disconnected from emotion or traditional musicality as possible. Which makes the premise for this album all the more compelling: two of his previous works are rearranged and presented using classical instrumentation by the Scenatet ensemble. The resulting work is much more akin to his initial compositions than a traditional classical recording.

Acting as its title would indicate as a bridge between their debut work, Shizuku, and an upcoming second effort, Interstices is a mix of improvisations, sketches, and experimentation that was all captured live. It does not come across as a taut, conceptual album focused on composition, nor is it consistently random or unfocused. Instead it is a slow drift through experimentation and improvisation that at times feels a bit random, but comes together quite well.

There are certainly a number of fine labels currently trawling record bins in Jamaica, Africa, South America, and Southeast Asia in search of great lost, unheard, or forgotten music, but Soundway compilations (particularly the African ones) are almost always my favorites.  The reason for that is quite simple: Miles Cleret and his collaborators are especially adept at 1.) knowing a great song when they hear it,  and 2.) making damn sure that there are a number of such songs on every single collection they release.  Unsurprisingly, Kenya Special continues that hot streak, being every bit as essential as their classic Ghana and Nigeria collections.

To the casual observer, it probably seems like either Edward Ka-Spel or The Legendary Pink Dots release (or re-release) an album just about every other week these days, but there has not actually been a major new LPD album since 2010's oft-brilliant Seconds Late for the Brighton Line.  While The Gethsemane Option does not quite measure up to that illustrious predecessor, it still boasts enough high points to make serious fans fairly happy.  Less serious fans probably only need to hear a few of the better pieces, but it is clear that Ka-Spel and company set out to deliver a coherent, deliberately sequenced album-sized dose of their signature skewed psychedelia and that its shortcomings are mostly the result of over-ambition.