‘Superfresh’ is less than the sum of its disco parts, though, while the less said about ‘Hot Property’ the better. But it picks up with ‘Something About You’ and ‘Summer Girl’, while ‘Carla’ is an electro-funk classic.

Then there’s her voice, sweet and breathy, uttering lyrics that are always in Spanish, yet sometimes content just to form unfamiliar, onomatopoeic sounds. It’s endlessly bewitching.

Passages of pummeling grooves, emotional strings and delicate piano are impressively tied together by Craig’s dancefloor expertise.

Ultimately, the sincerity and craft of the composition and production make it much more emotionally satisfying than the untold PCO knock-offs out there.

Concrete Desert is a potent blend of cinematic music-for-outsiders and deep, drone-leaning sounds.

It’s full of church organs, hazy reverb, rippling synths and poetry about mortality and eternity, as well as Sakamoto’s distinctive piano, sonar bleeps and unforgettable melodies. It’s arguably the most beautiful record you’ll hear this year.

[The first track, "Celebrate" is] a stunning start--and thankfully, the songs that follow are just as strong.

An album that’s underpinned by atmospherics that flicker between stalling and soaring, Abysma is blissfully evocative from start to finish.

The best tracks are ‘In Paris’, a song which Lady Gaga would be proud of; the disco-tinged ‘Other Guys’, a brilliant coming together of her voice and former Ima Robot member Tim Anderson’s production; and the brooding ‘By Your Side’, which wouldn’t sound out of place on the new London Grammar album.

Providence is a jittery robot trip-out, but it’s full of juicy strangeness that will find favour with both fans of both techno and oddball electronica.

Gently fizzing electronica meets grand structures and intimate explorations of instruments, and the results are both strange and deeply, instantly enjoyable. With the bar already set very high, he may just have produced his best record yet.

[A] collage of raw, percussive grooves that combines post-punk, performance poetry, analogue synth explorations, crypto-techno and acid. It’s challenging, yes, but endlessly hypnotic, too.

The momentum does slacken, though, and the album doesn’t feel particularly structured. Still, songs such as the fierce ‘Scum’ and the stately ‘No More’ are worthy additions to the band’s catalogue, and have far more grit and vividness than you’d expect from any band 37 years into their career.

There’s nothing new here, but you know what? That’s more than fine.

The tracks without vocal turns are left feeling slightly lacking, but the killer outweighs the filler.

Each track takes you to some very unexpected places. In the process, each delivers feelings much more potent than a lot of the supposedly “emotional” dancefloor music currently flooding the market at the moment.

There’s head-melting brilliance here, but he makes you work for it.

Fans of Flume and Caribou will find much to savour.

Growing up watching this, it’s no wonder we all ended up in dark rooms marching to repetitive beats.

Take a cult Bristolian label and add an African influence from Italian musician Clap! Clap!, and we might just have the best fusion record to kick of 2017 so far.

Seaton, as Call Super, invokes Peel’s memory on Fabric 92--if not in sound, then in the personal nature and spirit that percolates throughout.

It hangs on the pair’s innate ability to find light and space amid the sturm und drang.

There are no beats, just dynamic peaks and troughs, and the hugely textural and evocative results are unsettling yet absorbing.

Weirder tracks such as ‘System 100’ break the routine a bit, but it’d be nice to hear Moiré’s huge production skill with more variation of tone.

Fusing sonic intricacies, captivating melodies and compelling storytelling, Dirty Projectors’ eighth LP is their most honest and affecting yet.

Process is a moving, musical autobiography of futuristic, soulful electronica and brittle r’n’b.

Bleckmann rope-a-dopes like a voice boxer between the wobbly punches of ambient jazz and chilly chamber tones. [No. 139, p.53]

Hard Love is easy to adore. [No. 139, p.61]