For this third album for XL, Ratatat widen their scope so that all kinds of keyboards (even chopped-up autoharp, as on "Falcon Jab" and "Black Heroes") elbow for room among the video-game guitars that have thus far been their signature. Middle-eastern percussion (an Iranian drum, the zarb) in "Mi Viejo", "Mumtaz Khan" and "Gipsy Threat" avoids sounding tacked-on, and overall, LP3's expanse (attributable in part to their decamping upstate to the Catskills for its recording, perhaps?) could allow the New York duo to now appeal as much to fans of Air and Studio as Crystal Castles and Ed Banger hangers-on.  

More guitar-driven for the most part than 2002's Neon Golden, these Germans led by the stilted sincerity of singer Markus Acher regroup after spending more than five years concerned with the handful of other projects they collectively juggle, among them Tied + Tickled Trio, Lali Puna, Console and 13 & God (with anticon. crew Themselves). Not only should old fans of the band waiting for new material get their melancholic pop fix from The Devil, but there's also a good chance that admirers of newer acts that take a similarly wistful joy in the forlorn, from Hot Chip to Peter, Bjorn and John, will share the sentiment.

In the wake of last year's West Coast collection, Studio's Dan Lisvik and Rasmus Hagg subsequently wowed the cosmically-conscious of the dance music world with these 12" remixes, using the glistening guitars and tropical throb of their own productions as a template for some serious supplementary income (wonder how much Kylie's people pay?), even divvying up the jobs on occasion for maximum efficiency in true Swedish fashion. Head right to the heart of this disc for their revamp of Rubies' "Room Without A Key", setting the ladies' cool coos against odd-timed (6+8?) kinda-cod-reggae bass slink.

Clearing samples and changing labels (from Virgin to !K7) may have pushed back this first CD release by DJ/producer duo Matt Edwards (Radio Slave/Rekid) and Joel Martin for over a year, but it's a testament to their reputation as leftfield dance tastemakers that Silent Movie stays timely, with most spotters still catching up to their cosmic playlisting. More selections than creations, this collection of tweaked-out finds (Alan Parsons, meet Andreas Vollenweider!) may represent the nadir of re-edit culture for some, but it evens the playing field for those who missed out on the pricey preceding 12"s.

Like all proper instances of zeitgeist it's doubtlessly happenstance, but still it's timely to find Tape's newest released just one month after Portishead's, as these Swedes' airy instrumentals, long comparable to Gastr del Sol's use of guitars, keyboards and slight electronic treatments, also now share much of Third's paranoid-but-pastoral mood. Skip straight to "Fingers"' reedy organ, speedily stumbling over a lower-register three-chord cycle and soon to be joined in its race by brushed snare and snaking Tortoise-like vibes and electric guitar. Relaxing yet unsettling art-pop, and their least obtuse set yet.

A 32-minute mini-album that sees Kieran Hebden stretch out and flex some tech-house muscle, our man Four Tet sets his jazzier inclinations to the side (for the most part--his trusty swinging cymbal work does crop up for a spell near the end of "Ringer" proper, while "Wing Body Wing" shakes off some drum rolls under the four-on-the-floor), possibly setting his sights on the revered likes of Carl Craig, and holding his own in that big-room arena admirably. File next to Autechre's Quaristice as more revitalizing '08 IDM on the artist's own terms. Break out your glowsticks, and catch that shuttle bus!

Presumably named after that yawning 10-year gap between albums, "Silence" commands with rolling toms and a confounding 15-beat figure. Adding hues richer than remembered to tunes otherwise fitting into their sound of old ("Hunter" and "Plastic"'s distorted interruptions; "Small"'s Deep Purple organ wheeze), the band also delves into out-and-out new territory, getting their feet wet with the to-a-tee Silver Apples homage "We Carry On" before back-to-back 180s on uke ballad "Deep Water" and industrial drumpad pattern "Machine Gun", an act at their stark and versatile best on both.

Hearing the blog-ballyhooed Swede acting hard and taking on R&B "realness" on most of these tracks is ridiculous no matter how you slice it, unfortunate since when this woman ditches the Don King skits and Prince pottymouth and goes straight for the pop jugular as on Kleerup collab "With Every Heartbeat", she's bubblegum diva supreme. (Speaking of "Heartbeats", it's all too sadly expectedly cookie-cutter of The Knife to have their turn at producing Robyn, "Who's That Girl", sound just like an imitation of their aforementioned. Since most of this came out in '05 on import, though, this is all old news to fans.) 

As two of the 'teenaged' subjects of Saturdays=Youth's booklet photo shoot get introduced in "Kim & Jessie", M83 remodel John Hughes anthem mainstays like Simple Minds and The Psychedelic Furs in sleekly sincere, high-end fashion, while Morgan Kibby's vocals on "Skin Of The Night" and "Up!" stay '80s for full-blown respective Cocteau Twins and Kate Bush nods. Few Loveless-loving groups give those cooing keyboards a try, so it's notable that Anthony Gonzalez puts them in his palette, popping them up in JAMC-simple I-IV form on "Graveyard Girl", and the floor-tom pound of "Highway Of Endless Dreams". 

"Free Will"'s languor settles you in softly, its slow pulse, sizzling cymbal pads and massed Antonys letting you off easy before the clavinet, horns and disco-string strut of "Hercules Theme" throw you to the dancefloor, that drum kit and bass style giving away the DFA's participation in this project, however gladly subjugated they may be to head Herc Andy Butler. "You Belong" bounds with sounds uncannily jacked from Kevin Saunderson's early-'90s crossover playbook, and the inversions of "True False/Fake Real" couldn't be more apposite--they know you know they know it's both, bashfully full-bore. 

Christopher Clark's second LP is riddled with station-scrubbing static, bringing to mind Marc Leclair's micro-sampling as Akufen (especially in what sounds an awful lot like chopshopped INXS on the aptly pointed "Truncation Horn") mixed with Aphex Twin's Analord acid baths, but ultimately has a clubbier take than either, closer to the bent beats of Basement Jaxx while staying bunkered and holding the vocal cameos. Hopefully, fellow Warp artists Autechre's return to form on Quaristice won't completely overshadow the turns taken here.

Junior Boys' contribution to the Body Language series is mainly a tech-house affair, as briefly as it may flirt with current cosmic/balearic rumblings from Sorcerer and Studio. Chelonis R. Jones' Prince-liness lends the first signs of life to the mix with a standout track on par with Kelley Polar's synth arpeggiations; a sympathetic squelch follows from Steadycam, and you can imagine a crowd finally letting loose. More of a vocal/new wave bent follows, as recent Stereo Image and Matthew Dear bleed into vintage Pushe and Visage, making way for the Boys' own exclusive "No Kinda Man", edging things into a moody finish.   

Starting with and often returning to a pastoral orch-folk setting that frankly flatters Alison G.'s wispy but poised vocals, the tracks featuring such retro innovations serve to cast the predominant familiar elements in a new light, turning the more conventionally-programmed numbers like "Road To Somewhere" into the disorienting ones, as well as making one more forgiving of songs like "Some People", where the strings and ponderous tempo conspire to lay it on way too thick. Missteps and all, the various refinements on Seventh Tree should bring plenty of new fans Ms Goldfrapp's way.

After hearing this, anyone who skipped this French duo's Toronto show last summer is gonna know they messed up bad (but at least it explains that gig's hefty $58.50 ticket price). Essentially a monstrous greatest-hits disc recorded live, Alive 2007 is a testament to Daft Punk's considerable powers--it's as overblown, ridiculous and deafening as it is seductive, brilliant and exhilarating. In other words, a really good time that's equally smart and stupid--like all really good times. Between these gents, LCD Soundsystem and Justice, 2007 was certainly a year when dance music rekindled its potency.

Before "Someone Great" was one of 2007's best songs, it was an instrumental section to LCD Soundsystem's 2006 iTunes-only workout disco symphony, 45:33. Now issued on CD with a trio of bonus tracks, we get a chance to hear the creative process in reverse. A piece of music commissioned by Nike, 45:33 was designed to accompany a 45-minute cardio workout, complete with warm-up and cool-down sections. Despite the commercial nature of it, this project is an interesting creative concept and one for which James Murphy was ideally suited. Irreverent, full of hidden subtleties, and just as fun off the treadmill.

This album is already the rage amongst UK electronic afficionados for whom his self-titled debut was a much needed revitalization of dubstep. Since names like Tricky and Massive Attack have gone creatively packing, Burial does indeed appear primed to move on to bigger and better things. Untrue is a little too bleak an album to harbor its own "Teardrop", but it's not all doom and gloom. Burial manages to successfully convey a haunted, metropolitan atmosphere without completely forsaking a sense of adventure or lightness in his music. The result is an album of more layers than are first apparent.

This Toronto quartet have been successfully experimenting with the possibilities of live electronic music for a few years now, but with LP, they've happened upon the secret to bringing their party off the stage and onto record. Fashioned on the road, these tunes vibrate with tangible energy and locomotive intensity, but the secret is the dollop of sugar thrown into the mix. Instrumental pop hooks give these songs the added buoyancy that was lacking on their self-titled debut. What's more, their madcap ability to keep their bleeps and bloops fluid rather than rigid allows for a looseness missing from most electro-dance music.

As Polmo Polpo, Perri was the voiceless creator of beautifully submerged, amorphous music. So it's somewhat shocking to see just how nuanced a singer and songwriter he actually is. Hints of the great potential for Tiny Mirrors have been littered across CD-R releases and 2006's strong Sandro Perri Plays Polmo Polpo, not to mention his always excellent supporting cast of players. But that voice! Bringing to mind such singers as Arthur Russell and Talk Talk's Mark Hollis, Perri's voice is simply a revelation and Tiny Mirrors marks its strongest step into the world yet. Makes you wonder what other tricks he's hiding.

Ever since his stunning 2003 sophomore left turn, Up In Flames, it's been clear that Caribou is capable of nearly anything. It isn't so much that Andorra sounds worlds removed from his past work. It's another densely layered, polyrhythmic, psychedelic carnival ride of an album. But his career transition from IDM glitch king to Zombies-obsessed falsetto pop junkie has been so organic, it's only when you listen to this back-to-back with his debut, Start Breaking My Heart, that you truly realize the massive scope of his growth. In other words, Andorra is fascinating and bloody gorgeous.

read our interview with Caribou here

Given the unseasonably cool weather in Toronto lately, it's hard to believe it's summer, nevermind August. Anyone looking to the replicate that hot, sticky vibe best pick up Kala. This record is more than just a collection of wickedly written club anthems, although that it certainly is. M.I.A.'s restlessly globe-trotting beat radar leaves no stone unturned, and hearing gamelan and African rhythms so effortlessly spliced with high-gloss Miami/London club crunk is as hot a blast of sunshine as any 2007 recording can boast thus far. Politically charged and damn smart too. Shake. Your. Rum-pah!