Back catalogue:

Review: Swedish dub funk electropoppers Little Dragon - Yukimi Nagano, Erik Bodin, Fredrik Wallin and Hakan Wirenstrand - present their latest LP Slugs Of Love here via their longstanding patrons Ninja Tune. Following up their 2020 album New Me, Same Us, which had a long time to gestate, the new album comes at a well-timed moment, charting a thematic undercurrent of finding love in unexpected places - just the message we need for 2023. Eccentric and kooky synthiness bolsters their minimal-kitsch, r&b-inflected post-punk sound, best evidenced by the songs 'Stay' (featuring JID) or 'Gold'.

Review: Little Dragon - the pioneering Swedish four-piece fronted by enigmatic vocalist Yukimi Nagano, with multi-instrumentalists Hakan Wirenstarnd and Fredrik Wallin on keyboards and bass respectively, and Erik Bodin on drums and percussion - return with their sixth studio album, New Me, Same Us. After an impressive period of renown lasting almost two decades, this new record sounds like a moment of respite and a return to basics. "This album has been the most collaborative for us yet." they explain, "which might sound weird considering we've been making music together for all these years, but we worked hard at being honest, finding the courage to let go of our egos and be pieces of something bigger." This entailed total self-production in a long-term home studio built in Gothenburg, Sweden, as well as an impressively stripped-back sound, towing lullabies such as 'Where You Belong' and 'New Fiction', which both reassure and rouse at the same time.

Review: It's incredible to think Blush is PVA's debut album. The South London band sound like they've been doing aggy, abrasive and regularly oddly beautiful cold synth wave stuff since it was invented, bringing their own edge and energy, influences and ideas to a table that - much as we love it - can often feel like it has become set in its ways. Then again, perhaps their breaking from some traditions is exactly what exposes their freshness.

Across 11 incredible sonic assaults we're dragged from pillar to post in the best way. 'Untethered' sounds like an alarm going off and panic setting in, opening the album without apology. 'Hero Man' takes things into a more rolling, wavy place, albeit wasp-in-jar keyboard lines underpin things. 'The Individual' slows us down and ups the nasty; spoken word style lyrics and grungy, grimy atmosphere making it a stand out. Meanwhile, 'Seven' drops just ahead of the finale for blissful, twisted but honest romance.

Review: Yeule (Nat Cmiel) is something of a sonic scrapyard varmint, scouring the lost wastes for augmentable audio parts perhaps useable in their madcap experiments. An avant-garde spin doctor of ash-faced, death-ray-desert-bomb glitch-pop, they've kept their place at the knife-edge of innovation, blending genres and non-genres at the violent vanguard where sounds remain in constant, slipped flux. In the lineage of Machine Girl, ecolagbohrsac2021 or Hakushi Hasegawa, 2022's Glitch Princess laid nutritious ground for Cmiel's now evermore fractious work, Evangelic Girl Is A Gun, which hears the somewhat alter-egoic Yeule now delve into the complexity of a fragmented identity, embracing the duality of light and shadow while echoing surreal animes, such as Serial Experiments Lain and Angel Egg. The LP reimagines Yeule as a haunting figure, exploring ego deaths and transformations in partnership with visual artist Vasso Vu.

Review: The tide of (hyper)pop has ebbed into increasingly emo and indie directions and the frothiest edge of this fluid movement is perhaps best represented by the latest album from Yeule (Nat Cmiel). Softscars follows up Yeule's 2022 album Glitch Princess and continues the trend of ultra-glossy, CD-reflective, knife-edge sounds packed into the blueprint of downtempo dream pop, in which said gloss reflects Cmiel's own personal experience of healing from trauma. The likes of 'ghost', 'dazies' and 'sulky baby' are giving glitchy alternate-reality Green Day in their Boulevard Of Broken Dreams era, with a dash of ejector-jewel-cased lyrics and a sprinkling of George Clinton-esque production flavour.

Review: Non-binary performance artist Nat Cmiel from Singapore, often also known as yeule, continues to push the boundaries of glitch-pop and alt-electronica with their latest release. After solidifying their reputation as a trailblazer with their sophomore album Glitch Princess and its follow-up softscars, Cmiel takes a more daring, raw approach here. It's a cathartic exploration of self-destruction, trapped identities and the dark undercurrents of post-modernity, where Cmiel's ethereal vocals intertwine with dissonant beats, creating a paradox of beauty and tension.The sprawling atmospherics of 'Tequila Coma' and '1967' unfurl into a liquid haze, giving way to the razor-edged urgency of 'VV' and 'Dudu', which channel a palpable, jittery rhythm that commands attention. Collaborating with the likes of A.G. Cook and Mura Masa, the album navigates between haunting introspection and electrifying energy. It's a striking nod to Cmiel's ability to balance vulnerability and sonic experimentation, presenting a portrait of the artist struggling with the very image they've built.