This offering on the altar of music is a mesmeric slow burner. It goes to work on me like a time released medication. Strains of flute, bells, and synthesizer swirls gradually encompass me, infecting my blood stream with their calmness, before the levels are elevated into a heady pulsating crispness. Temple Music is an offshoot project started by Alan Trench of the British dark folk band Orchis and an ex-proprietor of the now deceased World Serpent label. After his first Temple Music release he was joined by Stephen Robinson. Together, on this limited release of 300, (distributed by AntiClock Records in the US, purveyors of fine titles from Language of Light, Ctephin and others), they have created an immersive sound-world blending elements of ritualistic drone, string band like avant-folk, and moments of blistering krautrock assaults. There are four movements on the disc, mixed as one continuous hour long piece.

From the album art and band title, I was expecting something more black metal-ly than I got with this album, which is a good thing. Considering this duo's first album was titled This Beat Is Necrotronic, I should have guessed that they weren't going to be playing by genre rules, and here the occasional bit of fuzzed out kvlt guitar is mostly balanced by dubby beats and textural synths, channeling the mid/late '90s ambient dub scene with distinctly current approach.

This two CD set, comprised of an album recorded in 2007 and a cassette that sold out ridiculously quick in 2010 showcases how much change has taken place in Jenks Miller's solo project. Even though he has never lost sight of his traditional minimalist foundation, this an early almost post-rock tinged album and a more contemporary metal one, which is more consistent with the recent work Horseback has put out.

There are a number of significant omissions in Eliane Radigue's discography, as the sole available medium in the '60s and '70s (vinyl) could not contain her long-form drone works without ruining them by carving them up into multiple parts.  Consequently, this extended epic of ultra-minimalism is just now getting a formal release despite being premiered in 1974.  While its immediate impact is blunted considerably by the 37 years of drone/electronic music evolution that followed it, patient listening reveals a visionary and enveloping work that is unexpectedly timeless.

In light of the on-going Occupy Wall Street protests and England's summer riots, James Hoff's single-sided picture disc on PAN feels a little heavier than it otherwise might. Stitched together from various "historic riots," none of which are named, How Wheeling Feels When the Ground Walks Away presents lo-fi crowd roar, chants, guitar solos, breaking glass, and other disobedient noises as the soundtrack to failing systems, desperation, and widespread anger. An audio documentary more than a musical treatment of collective discontent, Hoff captures the anxiety of rebellion and revolt as vividly as any camera could, though its effectiveness might depend on where and how it's heard.

This third album by Herb Diamante is a collection of the collaborations with a number of great and varied artists. From Sun City Girls to At Jennie Richie, Diamante and his pals cover a wide array of styles and moods. Sad, funny, and deeply weird, this album is as odd as can be without being strange for the sake of strangeness. There is real human tenderness under all schlock and mock horror which makes A Spoonful of Yeast one of those brilliant unhinged pop albums which never get made anymore.

With its heavy letter pressed sleeve and short duration, this does feel like the digital equivalent of an old punk 7". Consisting of Dan Colby and Ryan Francini (formally of The Cignal) handling the rhythm section and Fates’ PJ Norman on guitar, these two songs gave me an instant feeling of nostalgia for the early to mid '90s "alternative" scene, before it became known as "indie" and consequently a maligned, pejorative label.

Having abstained from a new Merz release for almost two years, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when cracking this disc open. Well, I expected noise at least, for good reason, and I definitely got that. Thankfully, my hopes that the context of this album would make it stand out amongst the ones I have and haven’t heard were not dashed. Recorded live last year as part of a Kurt Schwitters exhibition, Masami Akita puts on a great show that meshes his older "home made electronic instrument noise" sound with his modern "laptop noise" aesthetic.

Dominick Fernow has always been a polarizing figure in the noise scene: people either obsessively buy every limited tape he puts out, or they like to rant about him and his label on various noise message boards. So upon hearing that this album was going to be even more divisive than anything has yet released, my interest was definitely piqued. After hearing it a few times, it’s different, and yet not completely out of character in his discography.

If I could think of any condition that exemplified life today, it would be distraction. Even the most contemplative life is arrested by a thousand nagging interruptions. For my part, I was especially distracted while reviewing Old Punch Card, constantly turning away from the work to read some random article or watch some Internet video. Nothing peculiar about that, I’ll admit, but then I realized how well the album evokes distraction as a state of mind. It’s the sound of our own attention scattering into the ether.

This five disc box set collects all of Tindersticks' soundtracks for the French director Claire Denis. Dating back to their classic second album and continuing right up until their current incarnation, their relationship with Denis has borne exquisite musical fruit that covers a surprising spectrum of styles. This collection is an absolute treasure, covering the two previously released soundtracks with four unreleased works and each one is a masterpiece.

Somehow Mick Harris has slipped a couple of records by me in the last few years starting with the Super Mantis Part 1 single released by Combat Recordings in 2008. Scorn somehow makes simple drum beats and atonal bass sound angry. He's been working out this formula for over a decade and has left a traceable line from Super Mantis all the way back to his one-off Weakener project from 1998. In some ways, not much has changed: the bass still warbles and wobbles, the beats are still dead straight and simple, and the ambience is slowed down and impossible to pinpoint. But in other, subtle ways, Harris has refined these tracks over time and he's kept up with and just one step ahead of the legions of younger producers that he has inspired.

Jefre Cantu-Ledesma is best known for his work in Tarentel and The Alps, but his latest solo release doesn't sound much like either of those bands (no surprise, since they don't sound much like each other either). Instead, his self-described celebration of love itself plunges wholeheartedly into dream pop/shoegazer territory, sounding like Lovesliescrushing's best moments expanded into a warm and enveloping ocean of artfully layered guitar noise.

The Dead C's Michael Morley has been releasing solo albums under the Gate moniker since the mid-'90s, but his latest effort is a curve ball that probably no one saw coming: after a decade-long hiatus, Morley has surfaced with an electronic dance album...of sorts. Thankfully, despite ditching his signature gnarled guitars for synthesizers, drum machines, and a laptop, there is no evidence at all that Michael has gone soft. In fact, A Republic of Sadness attains a whole new level of inspiration and subversion, proving that even catchy dance beats can be crushed beneath the weight of Morley's party-killing world-weariness.

It starts slow and distant, ears needing to strain to distinguish the music from the world outside. This duo cello/percussion recording by Mêlèe is the sound of reality smeared across magnetic tape, a world unto itself.