Top ten best electronic music albums of 2021: Bicep – Isles

Fat Roland's Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021 presents another brilliant album:

Bicep – Isles (Ninja Tune)

It's time for my top ten countdown of the bestest best electronic music albums of 2021. Apart from the number one album, the top ten will be in alphabetical order by artist. Let's start with B for Bicep.

Respected author of the uncanny Nicholas Royle has a problem with this Belfast DJing duo's name. Back in 2017, I posted a link to one of their videos, commenting "it'll cheer your weekend up good and proper". Royle, who writes and edits books so knows how to do words good, said he was uncheered by the fact the band should know the word is "biceps" not "bicep". You can't have one bicep.

What followed was a light-hearted exchange in which Bicep, the band, jokingly promised Royle that they would address their dictionary-unfriendly name in the liner notes of their second album. Extra points to the author for his "Good strong response, Bicep" quip. Biceps? Strong? Ah suit yerself.

Here we are in December 2021, and Bicep have released their second album Isles. What does it contain? Drizzles of melancholic electronica, punchy beats filed to within an inch of their life, ear-popping vocal samples, and a nostalgic trip through every sheeny techno beat that's ever been created. Its a Bonobo fixed up and looking even sharper. A tribute to the unity of club culture, full of portent and scrumptious chords.

What's noticeably absent is a written explanation to Mr Royle, in full legalese, about their improbable name. Perhaps we'll never know what a bicep is. I admit, this did all happen more than four years ago: I put it down to bad muscle memory. 

This is part of a series of the Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021. Read it all here.

30 best electronic music albums of 2021: Pye Corner Audio, Ruth Mascelli, Ryan James Ford & Skee Mask

Fat Roland's Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021 presents four more brilliant albums:

Pye Corner Audio – Entangled Routes (Ghost Box)

Martin Jenkins, yes he sounds like a solicitor, completes his trilogy of albums. His last work Hollow Earth was one of my 2019 highlights, with me proclaiming that it deserved "its own police hat". I must have been drunk. This is dramatic analogue techno encased in marshmallows. Imagine a spaceship gliding through space, but it has no edges. It just seems to absorb everything that's around it. And this is the genius of Jenkins: he makes something ethereal and gossamer floaty sound so dang weighty. Please don't go back and read that old blog post: I bang on about arresting aliens or something. Honestly. As drunk as a pig in absinthe.

Ruth Mascelli – A Night At The Baths (Disciples)

Normally a synth wielder for New Orleans punkers Special Interest, Mascelli steps out into the hot night for an assortment of buzzing club techno custom made for that 4am pill-fuelled dance slog. Ruth says they got their inspiration from "bathhouses, dark rooms and gay clubs", and you can certainly feel the sweat pouring off the subterranean basslines and deep, deep drums. Ruth also talks about "cavernous sex clubs". Indeed, a Bandcamp reviewer writes "My bf has f*cked me to this album at least 5 times this weekend". Goodness me, you'll spill your Babycham, mate. Techno for punks. Sexy punks.

Ryan James Ford – Exshaw (DUB Recordings) 

Ryan James's debut named after his Canadian childhood home, or more specifically the forests that surrounded his home. I don't know what you get in Canadian woodland. Badgers? Elk? Polar bears on scooters? Probably all three. He has a tasty way of juggling breakbeats against a background of gloriously pitched ambience: imagine Aphex Twin's On remixed for a rave, with added club thuddery that grows growlier and more dominant throughout the album. Very good indeed. I was right about the woodland animals, by the way. The ominous Avant Guaze has a sound akin to a polar bear trying to nuzzle into a backpacker's soup flask. You'll never get it home on that scooter, mate.

Skee Mask – Pool (Ilian Tape)

2018's Compro was a corker, likened on this blog to that "little glint in a hippo’s eye when it wears its first tutu". What? This is not so much a dancing hippo as a step aerobics class by a bunch of miniature warthogs, each one dressed like its favourite soap opera star. There's not much to tie it all together, but you like the variety and weirdness of it all, and you don't doubt the energy everyone's putting in. Five, six, seven, oink! Pool takes in everything from pounding club bangers to squirrelly experimentalism, barely resting along the way. Squirrels? Where did they come from?

This is part of a series of the Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021. Read it all here.

30 best electronic music albums of 2021: µ-Ziq, Posthuman, Proc Fiskal & Proswell

Fat Roland's Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021 presents four more brilliant albums:

µ-Ziq and Mrs Jynx – Secret Garden (Planet Mu) 

Melodic IDM of the highest order. Please insert a smiley face emoji here. Inspired by the death of their parents. Please replace the smiley face emoji with a sad cry emoji. Gorgeous bubbly acid, feather-light electronic rhythms, hammock-lazy melody lines, glistening synth perfection, AND tracks called The Ballad Of Darth Vader and Philip Steak. Please cross out all existing emojis, replacing them with a crazy eyed emoji listening really hard to tiny headphones. This collaboration between an IDM legend – head of the Planet Mu label, no less – and a fully respected Manchester music maker paid off in buckets. All the happy faces.

Posthuman – Requiem For A Rave (Balkan Vinyl)

I don't often quote PR blurbs, but get a load of this. "We’re of the generation that saw the Criminal Justice Bill force the raves from the fields into the clubs, we caught the tail end of the convoys soundtracked by cassette recordings of pirate radio stations from far-off London and beyond. Every week a new musical discovery, every mixtape a revelation." From the rude boy shoutouts, to the choppy synth lines, to the car-speaker busting bass, this glow-stick guzzling dancefloor workout does what it says on the tin. Throwback? No way. This is a fast-forward because the spirit of rave lives on hard with Requiem.

Proc Fiskal – Siren Spine Sysex (Hyperdub)

Apparently, Proc Fiskal's family was big in folk music. Not, like, giants. They didn't have to use massive guitars or anything. But, like, there's a real heritage there. It's an interesting historical note because of the use of vocal samples in this super-glazed second album of tingling and detailed electronica. It rather sounds like he's grabbed an acapella folk band and spiralised them all over his music. Or maybe just meat-minced a carolling choir. In a gorgeous way. "Like Elizabeth Fraser cut into a UK Garage lilt," says the blurb. The result is enchanting: never has Gaelic sounded so futuristic.

Proswell – People are Giving and Receiving Thanks at Incredible Speeds (Central Processing Unit)

A veteran Chicago producer and format experimentalist nails his first album for Sheffield's CPU Records. Am I going to cut and paste from one of my Electronic Sound reviews again? Of course I can. I'm writing everything at breakneck speed in an attempt to keep ahead of my blogging schedule. So... This album "throws us into an imaginary computer game where the pixels are broken and the only glow in the distance is a low-battery light." This is Rephlexian IDM on happy pills. And it must get a bonus point for one of the best album ack titles of the year. "Game over," I wrote. "Play again? Most definitely yes."

This is part of a series of the Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021. Read it all here.

30 best electronic music albums of 2021: Jim Noir, Joy Orbison, LNS & Murcof

Fat Roland's Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021 presents four more brilliant albums:

Jim Noir – Deep Blue View (Dook Recordings) 

This was a massive surprise. Not in a horse's head in your shopping trolley kind of way. More like a unicorn in your wardrobe kind of way. Is that better? Not sure. Anyways, in Electronic Sound, I described Noir's ludicrously listenable music as "a full-on hug... a Jim Noir boudoir. Think Air covering the Beatles via John Barry." Honestly, this is possibly the most pleasant work on this best-of countdown. Ah, I've thought of a better simile. It's like ripping open your pillow then finding another pillow inside then ripping open that pillow and finding pillows carrying on until the end of the universe. Whilst sleeping with a unicorn. Delightful.

Joy Orbison – still slipping vol. 1 (XL Recordings)

You wait ages for a Joy Orbison debut album and suddenly one comes along at once. Look, it's not like you need to release an album to make a name for yourself. Orbison is electronic music royalty. However, it's astonishing to think that his game-changing debut track Hyph Mngo was released in the decade before last, and it's only now that he's chosen to pop out a long-player. It was a curiously low-key mix-tape-style debut, his floaty club cuts peppered with the voice of family members distanced from him during lockdown. Still, although there wasn't much to get your teeth into, it was extraordinarily listenable

LNS & DJ Sotofett – Sputters (Tresor Records)

What do you get if you cross a Canadian producer and a Norwegian DJ? Great big holes all over Australia! Wait. That's not right. This is the first time these collaborators have produced an album, and the fact it's on the hard-nosed Tresor Records gives a clue as to its content. Hammer-blow bass drums lead the energy, bringing with them twitchy 909 rhythms, abraded acid and lots of science fiction sounds. The best thing is the album's dubwise attitude, with the echo machine working overtime to plump the cold hardware with warm air. Dubby electro fun and no mistake.

Murcof – The Alias Sessions (The Leaf Label) 

Another album that probably should have been in my top ten. This abstract minimalism was originally written for a dance performance, and sees Murcof reuniting with the legendary Leaf label for the first time in 13 years. "Murcof creates cataclysmic ripples from the smallest waveform, like a moth’s wingbeat causing Saturn to explode," I wrote in Electronic Sound before waffling about "gaseous glitches" and "transient arcs" and an "ominous gong, rusted piano over supercharged static". For an act so obtuse to mainstream ears, it's incredible how listenable this is. Arguably Murcof's best work for a long time.

This is part of a series of the Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021. Read it all here.

30 best electronic music albums of 2021: Blanck Mass, Facta, Hannah Peel & Herrmann Kristoffersen

Fat Roland's Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021 presents four more brilliant albums:

Blanck Mass – In Ferneaux (Sacred Bones Records)

When the Guardian reviewed this, they called it "the very definition of niche". I think that's code for "we don't quite get it". This is certainly Benjamin John Power doing something different, as he swaps his flesh-wobbling red-LED maximalism for something more serene. In two long phases, he leads us through sparkling streams of polished pads, through tinkling found sounds, through droning funereal organs, Scanner-style vocal wires. There are relatively few moments – although they are still there – where it feels like he is battering mechanical moles into your brain. Sounds niche. And I approve.

Facta – Blush (Wisdom Teeth) 

How did this drop out of my top ten? For flip's sake. Can someone get admin on the line? Here's a snippet from my review of this folky debut for Electronic Sound magazine. "Facta’s insanely good-natured debut is a woodland meander through placid pads and feet-tickling FM synths... On Deck’s cheery vibraphone recalls 808 State’s rosier moments, or last year’s triumphantly tropical Cape Cira from label partner K-Lone [see 2020's countdown]." Speaking of K-Lone, it does work as a sister album: this Balearic delight is another gleaming triumph for the Wisdom Teeth label. Well done, teeth fairies!

Hannah Peel – Fir Wave (My Own Pleasure)

Hannah Peel is well jammy. For this fourth album, she was given access to the Delia Derbyshire archives. She rebuilt that historic audio into a haunting Mercury Prize-shortlisted tribute to library music and nocturnal chill-out. Cycles of fuzzy synths pay homage to the likes of Global Communication, and the thrilling build on Ecovocative is pure Ulrich Schnauss. All the while, this is uniquely Peel, and you can easily draw a line of heritage to her ace spacy album Mary Casio. I presume she got permission for the Delia samples, and didn't break into the archive like the Pink Panther, the Oceans Eleven fellas or an especially naughty badger.

Herrmann Kristoffersen – Gone Gold (Bytes)

Over to my Electronic Sound writing again for this tribute to the classic Electronic Arts video game Need For Speed. (Yes, really. Apparently the Kristoffersen half of the partnership used to compose music for Nintendo.) "Unsurprisingly for something released on Bytes, named after the legendary Black Dog album, there’s more than a hint of Artificial Intelligence here. The nostalgia works: cue a montage of Playstations, Gameboys and blocky Designers Republic geometrics... There is widescreen emotion on Gone Gold, its wistful IDM washes as filmic as any modern cutscene." Vroom, vroom.

This is part of a series of the Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021. Read it all here.

30 best electronic music albums of 2021: 96 Back, Anz, Basic Rhythm & The Black Dog

The Top 60 becomes a Top 30. The excitement! Fat Roland's Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021 presents four more brilliant albums:

96 Back – 9696 Dream (Local Action)

Sheffield's Evan Majumdar-Swift has turned in a corker of a rave album, and there's barely a phat drop in sight. This is techno written in neon and hydrogen. Lines of melody have all the woozy weightlessness of waking from sleep, and even when it slaloms into a steady groove on, say, Freepass For Them, it still feels light on its feet. Incidentally, this was mastered by Warp Records founder Rob Gordon, so there's some serious heft behind the buoyancy. Hat doff to his other works this year, including the move into vocals on the compelling Love Letters, Nine Through Six.

Anz – All Hours (Ninja Tune)

Another EP has sneaked its way onto my list. Whaddaya gonna do? Report me to the list police? This unashamedly poppy collection of bass music feels like that moment in a movie when all is resolved and the protagonists just need to let their hair down. Stereo on, disco ball spinning, and let's not think too much about granny whose storyline was left unsolved. Did she escape the kidnappers? Who cares. Let's boogie to the glistening r&b, the funky electro jams, the gentle acid, the shuffling wub-wub techno. This is a Ninja Tune debut for this Manchester producer: the world is watching. Maybe granny was one of the bad guys. We'll find out in the sequel. Roll credits!

Basic Rhythm – Electronic Labyrinth (Planet Mu)

I've been watching East Man's output with interest, so it's pleasing to see Anthoney Hart's other alter-ego drop such a compelling album. As suggested by the East London landscape of the album cover, his second album under this name for Planet Mu, this is tower-block tough. Hunch-shouldered rhythms provide a base for a series of tributes to his pirate DJ days on Rude FM. Beats crumble, basslines bend, and euphoric rave lines are subsumed into the grittiness of it all. Hayward Road soars the highest, but its freewheeling arpeggio belies the fact that we barely leave the basement of modern UK bass music. Proper.

The Black Dog – Music For Photographers (Dust Science)

Brutal. No, literally. Dusty legends The Black Dog spent two years photographing Brutalist architecture, and this compendium of deep, hazy ambience has an intention as cemented as the structures that inspired it. "It should be played in full when visiting any location," say the Dogsters. So whip out their Brutal Sheffield book, Google Map your way to one of the buildings, and let this album consume you in situ. Chords are elongated, beats are reigned in, and bulldozers put on hold as we celebrate a quickly disappearing aspect of UK cities. A window into some serious concrete soul.

This is part of a series of the Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021. Read it all here.

Best electronic music albums 2021: an update

Hello, reader. We are halfway through my blogging marathon of my bestest toppest electronic music albums of 2021.

Of my original 90 albums on my list, 60 have come and gone. Jon Hopkins went off to live in a cave, Caro C got her rocks on, Ulrich Schnauss was a "neon pink hallucination" and Jana Rush inadvertently made me reveal something disturbing about me and a science lab.

I expect you to have listened to all 60 of those albums by now. There will be a written exam on the way out.

What's next? I'll now get into the top 30 best electronic albums of 2021. As explained in my introductory blog post, albums will continue to be grouped together rather than have specific chart numbers assigned. I'll do a bunch of Top 30s, then a bunch of Top 10s - and then the all-important number one Best Electronic Album of 2021.

Can you cope with the pressure? Here, breathe into this paper bag. Here, have a good squeeze of this stress ball. Here, stroke this fluffy kitten. Here, put your finger into this tube marked 'Instant Shock Device 69.0'. Aaaaand relax.

More albums to come. I might do some more tonight, or I might wait until tomorrow. I dunno. I've been writing since 8am and I'm a bit tired. In any case, you can follow all of this on the 'best albums of 2021' label on this blog. Treat!

60 best electronic music albums of 2021: SectorSept, Steven Rutter, Stigma, Tristan Arp & Ulrich Schnauss

Fat Roland's Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021 presents five more brilliant albums:

SectorSept – 954 (Gobstopper Records)

Pssst, mate. Don't tell anyone, but technically this is an EP. It shouldn't be on the list. If you tell anyone, I'll slice ya. Anyhoo, Mr. Mitch's Gobstopper label presents this delicious techno, er, album from this UK / Florida producer. The low-slung beats cast a line between UK bass music and smooth US electro, its low-res vocal samples only adding to the urban atmosphere. Not an artist I've encountered before, so I'll be watching keenly for future releases. A real head-nodder. Say nuthin', alright? Nudge nudge, wink wink, flap flap.

Steven Rutter – Riddle Me Sane (FireScope Records) 

Steven who? This is the bloke from legendary Artificial Intelligence act B12. The best thing? He's pretty much doing his B12 thing. Which is all kinds of fantastic. Electronic bloops, skippy snares. dubby bass, gorgeous early Warp vibes. There's a bleepy bit towards the start of the album which I want to either woo into marriage or take on a horrendously dirty weekend away. A melodic treat where, in the vein of classic ambient dub of the Warp variety, the machines truly feel alive.

Stigma – Too Long (Pessimist Productions)

A marching band staggers around the corner. They pound their drums but they're smashed on illegal grog. They stagger into bins, trip over kerbs. The guy at the back, the one with the cymbals, has been mounted by a squid. Welcome to the world of Stigma, the new name for Kristian 'Pessimist' Jabs. Big fat trip hop beats crumble into a pool of post-Massive Attack misery while wiggly bits of electronica splash around at the edges. This damn funk is sliced through with the spirit of Bristol. What a triumph.

Tristan Arp – Sculpturegardening (Wisdom Teeth)

Arp, who counts Arca as a former classmate, created this lilting electronic album during lockdown in Mexico City, a time when many of us were solo-journeying into nature. Sculpturegardening was inspired by Alan Titchmarsh. Oh, hold on. Not Alan specifically. It was inspired by gardening generally, and has a natural, dappled feel thanks to its wavering harmonics and soft cello sounds. Considering the generative processes he used, the result is remarkably pretty. An album for stopping and smelling the Alans. Roses, I mean. Smelling the roses.

Ulrich Schnauss & Mark Peters – Destiny Waiving (Bureau B) 

"I’ve never been massaged by puppies on a bed of candy floss," I wrote in Electronic Sound magazine, "but these serene sounds probably come close." I praised the album's "neon pink hallucination of bright open guitar chords and chains of blissful harmonics" before having second thoughts about my opening image. "Maybe not puppies. Kittens, perhaps. Really fluffy ones." Oh dear. Anyhow, this is all jolly and cheerful because it's Schnauss and you know what you're getting with Schnauss. "Possibly turtles?" I wrote. Blimey. Shut up, Fats.

This is part of a series of the Best Electronic Music Albums of 2021. Read it all here.