This summer’s vacation/techno-chill record to beat, The Garden, is frankly better suited for the stereos of experientialists with tastes for Third Eye Foundation or Kraftwerk. Sia Furler stretches her voice around founding member Henry Binns’s airy nick of Peabo Bryson in “Throw It All Away,” the previously released scorched-asphalt radio…

Halou’s woozily animated shoegaze-electro draws its anti-gravitas from Ryan Coseboom’s found-noise-punctuated synths. They’re usually found bobbing lazily along like ice cubes in the imaginary Big Gulp martini held by his singer/wife Rebecca, a pipe-cleaner-hair goth whose dreamy soprano evokes a Not-It girl holding up the bar wall as she waits…

It’s not so much a case of what Chachi Jones expects of listeners but what he subjects them to. A pioneer in bleeding-edge headphone-electro, Jones deals in circuit-bending, a dada style that smuggles toys, power tools, and other sampled objects into bizarre synth moonscapes. One minute listeners are being sucked…

Icon of Coil’s Andy LaPlegua continues his lifelong genre-jumping expedition, this time planting his flag in an uncharted section of Reznorland where a scent of Bowie is carried on the breeze. In antithetical contrast to IOC’s poppish EBM, the two albums released under the Combichrist banner were unholy noise truncheons…

Finding himself committed once again to a slower, gloomier aesthetic with this Frisco indie-metal all-star project, High on Fire/Sleep frontman Matt Pike chose not only to swim rather than sink but also to spin it into the Devil’s water ballet. Fierce shades of Sabbath carry over from Pike’s HoF scene-busting,…

It’s no small dividend of evolution when a band is able to grow up and realize it no longer needs to cram its records full of the summer-stock trappings that got it where it is now. Early Fields of the Nephilim was a misunderstood, barely listenable post-Lemmy fetish targeting lonely…

Mesmer-techno fever dreams for the goth date who absolutely, positively must get seduced overnight. The latest collage of roborotica from the French band of nymphomaniacs, Die Form, is the group’s sexiest yet, even with less playing time for liane. Billowing with regal airs, “Morphosis” glowers with primo samples pinched from…