who cares whether it's better categorised as hip-hop, electronica or indie-rock (possible the most confusing tag often ascribed to the band), this is what all pop music should sound like today.

this is so ill it has every disease known to man. and then some more we haven't discovered yet. madlib does the crate digging while doom free-associates with flow.

in a world that made sense max tundra would be the biggest superstar on the planet, our generation's prince or bowie. unfortunately this isn't the case. travesty.

an immensely diverse yet coherent record, with tracks ranging from the raggacore anthem vatstep dsp to an electroacoustic cover of the rolling stones' paint it black.

with this record eye and his bandmates attempt to formulate an answer to the question "what happens to the punks when they grow up?" and come up with an expansive krautrock-inspired masterpiece.

burial's genius lies in his attention and dedication not only to skiffling two-step beats (of which there are plenty on this album) but to the overlaying ambience and melodies.

some of the most arrhythmic and complex electronic music ever, ignoring any conventions concerning time signatures or structure, he's a paradigm of breakcore whether he likes the label or not

this sprawling epic puts the sex into shoegaze, melding sitek's wall-of-sound guitars and muffled drum machines with adebimpe and malone's soulful vocals.

prefuse's calling card as the premier cut-up merchant of the new millenium. the end of biters international is the anthem for the short attention spanned generation.

i once fell asleep with this album on repeat in headphones. i woke up in the middle of the night and thought the apocalypse was nigh.

this is one of the warmest and welcoming long players i've heard in a long time and it coerces, and indeed demands, complete and utter immersion.

on this album yoni wolf weaves glorious melodies with dense lyricism and makes you wish you were the protagonist of a coming-of-age-movie