Edinburgh Book Festival 2025: Here are 25 past Booker Prize nominees at this year's event
One of the greatest living writers – and a man who needs no introduction – Ian McEwan will appear during the 2025 Edinburgh International Book Festival ahead of the publication of his new novel, What We Can Know at McEwan Hall on Sunday, August 24. McEwan became a Booker Prize winner in 1998 for his novel Amsterdam and he is one of the few writers to have been nominated on six occasions. | Getty Images
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Scotsman
7 hours ago
- Scotsman
is it still a metal classic or has it aged like milk?
This article contains affiliate links. We may earn a small commission on items purchased through this article, but that does not affect our editorial judgement. Has Fear Factory's Demanufacture stood the test of time or, as the prosecution accuse, become a 'flimsy structure' for metal to follow? Sign up to our daily newsletter Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to Edinburgh News, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... Fear Factory's 1995 album Demanufacture is widely considered a landmark in metal, but its legacy remains fiercely debated. Accusations range from being overly mechanistic and cold to lacking the warmth and organic feel of traditional metal Is it a pioneering work guilty of derailing a genre, or is it a misunderstood masterpiece deserving of a dramatic re-evaluation? Today, we convene in the solemn chambers of public opinion to preside over a musical case that, while critically lauded in its time, has since been subjected to scrutiny, mischaracterisation, and perhaps, a failure to fully grasp its true impact. On trial: Demanufacture by Fear Factory, a 1995 release that arrived with the force of a hydraulic press, forging a path between industrial coldness and metallic brutality. Often cited as a pioneering work, it has also faced criticisms of being too rigid, too mechanical, and even, by some, too influential in ways that led to less desirable offshoots. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The defence, however, believes there is compelling evidence for its enduring genius and rightful place as a monumental achievement in heavy music. Before we delve into today's proceedings, let us set the scene. Is Fear Factory's Demanufacture a work of art, or is it merely a work of 'calculated aggression?' | Getty Images/Canva In the mid-1990s, the landscape of heavy music was in flux. Metal, in its traditional forms, was still powerful, but new hybrids were emerging, challenging conventions and setting the stage for what would become one of the decade's most defining, and often divisive, sounds: nu-metal. It was into this fertile, yet volatile, ground that Fear Factory emerged. Formed in Los Angeles in 1989, Fear Factory quickly distinguished themselves from their peers. Comprised of vocalist Burton C. Bell, guitarist Dino Cazares, bassist Christian Olde Wolbers, and drummer Raymond Herrera, the band forged a unique sound that relentlessly fused industrial machine-like precision with death metal's aggression and groove metal's rhythmic drive. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad They built a reputation for pioneering a distinct rhythmic assault, often employing blast beats, double bass drumming, and heavily palm-muted guitar riffs that sounded more like percussive machinery than traditional shredding. Their lyrical themes, consistently exploring the uneasy relationship between man and machine, technology and humanity, carved out a distinct conceptual identity that resonated with a generation grappling with the digital age. It was in 1995 that Fear Factory released their second studio album, Demanufacture. Upon its arrival, it was heralded by many as a ground-breaking work, a bold leap forward that redefined the boundaries of extreme music. However, over the years, Demanufacture has become a subject of considerable controversy and debate. While praised for its innovation and brutal efficiency, it has also been accused of being cold, sterile, and overly mechanical, with critics questioning its emotional depth and whether its influential sound inadvertently paved the way for more simplistic and less organic forms of metal. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad To truly analyse its impact and legacy – and to confront these long-standing accusations – we are today putting Demanufacture on 'musical trial' in the court of public opinion. Let the proceedings begin. In defence of: Fear Factory - Demanufacture The Charge The album, Demanufacture by Fear Factory, stands accused of being a sterile, overly mechanistic, and emotionally cold blueprint for a wave of metal that prioritised rhythm and aggression over organic feel and nuanced musicianship, ultimately contributing to a perceived dehumanisation of the genre. The Prosecution Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we are presented today with an album that, on the surface, might appear to be a marvel of precision and force. Indeed, upon its release, Demanufacture was met with considerable acclaim. But I submit to you that this very precision, this relentless, machine-gun rhythm, this calculated coldness, is precisely its greatest sin. The evidence will demonstrate that Demanufacture, for all its apparent innovation, presented a stark, almost unfeeling vision of metal. The drumming, while undeniably fast, often felt more like a programmed beat than the fluid expression of a human hand. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad As one reviewer noted regarding drummer Raymond Herrera's work, it's "precision machine gun fire drum work," often raising questions of "whether his drum work is not redone to some extent with studio magic, because it is totally mind blowing, despite the fact that he rarely touches his cymbals." This "machine-like" quality, while impressive, sacrifices the organic warmth of human performance. The guitar riffs, precise and percussive, largely eschewed the melodic complexity and dynamic range that defined earlier eras of metal, reducing the instrument to a rhythmic hammer. Critics have pointed out that Demanufacture "doesn't try to wow you with high-pitched vocals or blazing guitar solos as this album features absolutely none of that." This minimalist approach to traditional metal elements, while a deliberate choice, stripped away much of the expressive freedom cherished by purists. Even the vocals, while shifting between guttural roars and clean, almost ethereal melodies, often contributed to an unsettling dichotomy rather than a cohesive emotional landscape, with some finding the clean vocals "somewhat off key" at times Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad We contend that this album, by "prioritising mechanisation over human elements" [paraphrased from general criticism], laid the groundwork for a future where metal became less about fiery passion and more about calculated aggression, paving the way for bands that would imitate its mechanical precision without capturing its conceptual ambition. It streamlined, it systematised, it... de-manufactured the very soul of heavy music, leading to a sound that, "while powerful, often sounded very lifeless when compared to their later work" and "very compressed by today's standards." It set a precedent for a sound that, in less capable hands, often became predictable, repetitive, and ultimately, devoid of the human element. The defence may speak of innovation, but we will show you an album that, despite its power, ultimately sacrificed warmth and humanity for the cold, unyielding embrace of the machine. This album, we contend, is guilty of establishing a blueprint that, while powerful, often led metal astray. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The defence Members of the court of public opinion, I appreciate the arguments that the Prosecution has levied against the album, but I remind them of the state of metal at the time. This was in 1995, where the metal genre was just on the cusp of breaking into mainstream avenues through acts such as Korn, Limp Bizkit, and in later years, Linkin Park. Where some groups might have changed their formula to reflect the change in trends, I argue that Fear Factory "evolved" their sound not simply to be accessible for newer fans of the genre, but to ensure they did not alienate older fans of their industrial style. Demanufacture indeed sounds emotionally cold and lacks organic warmth; but that is precisely the point of the album. It's a meticulously crafted concept album about a man's struggles against a machine-controlled government, with each song a chapter in his life. As the band themselves stated, the album took its inspiration from the movie The Terminator, and within that context, the 'stark, unfeeling' nature of the album and lack of organic warmth is not a flaw, but a deliberate and essential artistic choice. This is an album that is meant to evoke emotions of technology taking over organic matter, and thus had to prioritise mechanisation over human elements. Not just that, but the very nature of industrial metal lends itself to having a cold, mechanical resonance to it, and I point to the likes of Nine Inch Nails or Godflesh as previous evidence of this aesthetic being central to the genre. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The charges of being lifeless and compressed, giving it a powerful, suffocating feel, are exactly the kind of emotions Fear Factory looked to evoke with the work. Again, members of the court, this is a concept album about technology taking over. The relentless, percussive guitaring perfectly compliments the blunt force nature of the drumming, giving listeners such as myself vivid images of mechanical presses, whirling machinery, and cold, metallic elements as part of the story's chilling narrative. This wasn't a flaw; it was a masterful sonic design choice that immersed the listener in the album's dystopian vision. As for the charge against Burton C. Bell's vocals, his performance perfectly embodies the album's themes of man versus machine. What the Prosecution labels as "off-key" is, I submit, an unfair and superficial judgment. The stark contrast between the desperate, vulnerable human element of Bell's clean singing and the cold, almost automated yells, demonstrates the harrowing duality of the album's core concept. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad It's the sound of humanity struggling for breath against an overwhelming, artificial perfection, and in many respects, a chilling premonition of what life, according to Demanufacture, has become. This vocal interplay isn't a weakness; it's a dynamic storytelling device, full of nuanced emotion that transcends simple melody. Furthermore, to label Demanufacture as a "harmful blueprint" that led metal "astray" is to fundamentally misunderstand its pioneering spirit. This album was not simply following trends; it was very much steadfast in the industrial metal blueprint, while expertly borrowing from the burgeoning groove metal scene that was popular at the time. That it didn't lead metal "astray" should be more of a testament to the importance of the record across the metal genre, rather than dismissing it as building "flimsy structures" going forwards. It's not Fear Factory's fault if other artists were inspired, influenced, or outright cribbed from them and produced second-rate imitations—much like it is unfair to blame The Beatles for a "flimsy structure" regarding the raft of British pop acts that followed them or an act like The Libertines being accused of laying a formula for what has been called these days as 'landfill indie.' True innovation, like that found on Demanufacture, always risks inspiring lesser imitations. This album's influence should be celebrated, not condemned, for opening new sonic pathways in heavy music. I rest my case, your honour(s) Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad What is your verdict on Fear Factory's 1995 album Demanufacture? Share if you're for or against the album by leaving a comment down below, and catch Fear Factory when they peform at Bloodstock Open Air 2025 in August 2025.
Scotsman
9 hours ago
- Scotsman
is it still a metal classic or has it aged like milk?
This article contains affiliate links. We may earn a small commission on items purchased through this article, but that does not affect our editorial judgement. Has Fear Factory's Demanufacture stood the test of time or, as the prosecution accuse, become a 'flimsy structure' for metal to follow? Sign up to our Arts and Culture newsletter Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... Fear Factory's 1995 album Demanufacture is widely considered a landmark in metal, but its legacy remains fiercely debated. Accusations range from being overly mechanistic and cold to lacking the warmth and organic feel of traditional metal Is it a pioneering work guilty of derailing a genre, or is it a misunderstood masterpiece deserving of a dramatic re-evaluation? Today, we convene in the solemn chambers of public opinion to preside over a musical case that, while critically lauded in its time, has since been subjected to scrutiny, mischaracterisation, and perhaps, a failure to fully grasp its true impact. On trial: Demanufacture by Fear Factory, a 1995 release that arrived with the force of a hydraulic press, forging a path between industrial coldness and metallic brutality. Often cited as a pioneering work, it has also faced criticisms of being too rigid, too mechanical, and even, by some, too influential in ways that led to less desirable offshoots. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The defence, however, believes there is compelling evidence for its enduring genius and rightful place as a monumental achievement in heavy music. Before we delve into today's proceedings, let us set the scene. Is Fear Factory's Demanufacture a work of art, or is it merely a work of 'calculated aggression?' | Getty Images/Canva In the mid-1990s, the landscape of heavy music was in flux. Metal, in its traditional forms, was still powerful, but new hybrids were emerging, challenging conventions and setting the stage for what would become one of the decade's most defining, and often divisive, sounds: nu-metal. It was into this fertile, yet volatile, ground that Fear Factory emerged. Formed in Los Angeles in 1989, Fear Factory quickly distinguished themselves from their peers. Comprised of vocalist Burton C. Bell, guitarist Dino Cazares, bassist Christian Olde Wolbers, and drummer Raymond Herrera, the band forged a unique sound that relentlessly fused industrial machine-like precision with death metal's aggression and groove metal's rhythmic drive. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad They built a reputation for pioneering a distinct rhythmic assault, often employing blast beats, double bass drumming, and heavily palm-muted guitar riffs that sounded more like percussive machinery than traditional shredding. Their lyrical themes, consistently exploring the uneasy relationship between man and machine, technology and humanity, carved out a distinct conceptual identity that resonated with a generation grappling with the digital age. It was in 1995 that Fear Factory released their second studio album, Demanufacture. Upon its arrival, it was heralded by many as a ground-breaking work, a bold leap forward that redefined the boundaries of extreme music. However, over the years, Demanufacture has become a subject of considerable controversy and debate. While praised for its innovation and brutal efficiency, it has also been accused of being cold, sterile, and overly mechanical, with critics questioning its emotional depth and whether its influential sound inadvertently paved the way for more simplistic and less organic forms of metal. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad To truly analyse its impact and legacy – and to confront these long-standing accusations – we are today putting Demanufacture on 'musical trial' in the court of public opinion. Let the proceedings begin. In defence of: Fear Factory - Demanufacture The Charge The album, Demanufacture by Fear Factory, stands accused of being a sterile, overly mechanistic, and emotionally cold blueprint for a wave of metal that prioritised rhythm and aggression over organic feel and nuanced musicianship, ultimately contributing to a perceived dehumanisation of the genre. The Prosecution Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we are presented today with an album that, on the surface, might appear to be a marvel of precision and force. Indeed, upon its release, Demanufacture was met with considerable acclaim. But I submit to you that this very precision, this relentless, machine-gun rhythm, this calculated coldness, is precisely its greatest sin. The evidence will demonstrate that Demanufacture, for all its apparent innovation, presented a stark, almost unfeeling vision of metal. The drumming, while undeniably fast, often felt more like a programmed beat than the fluid expression of a human hand. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad As one reviewer noted regarding drummer Raymond Herrera's work, it's "precision machine gun fire drum work," often raising questions of "whether his drum work is not redone to some extent with studio magic, because it is totally mind blowing, despite the fact that he rarely touches his cymbals." This "machine-like" quality, while impressive, sacrifices the organic warmth of human performance. The guitar riffs, precise and percussive, largely eschewed the melodic complexity and dynamic range that defined earlier eras of metal, reducing the instrument to a rhythmic hammer. Critics have pointed out that Demanufacture "doesn't try to wow you with high-pitched vocals or blazing guitar solos as this album features absolutely none of that." This minimalist approach to traditional metal elements, while a deliberate choice, stripped away much of the expressive freedom cherished by purists. Even the vocals, while shifting between guttural roars and clean, almost ethereal melodies, often contributed to an unsettling dichotomy rather than a cohesive emotional landscape, with some finding the clean vocals "somewhat off key" at times Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad We contend that this album, by "prioritising mechanisation over human elements" [paraphrased from general criticism], laid the groundwork for a future where metal became less about fiery passion and more about calculated aggression, paving the way for bands that would imitate its mechanical precision without capturing its conceptual ambition. It streamlined, it systematised, it... de-manufactured the very soul of heavy music, leading to a sound that, "while powerful, often sounded very lifeless when compared to their later work" and "very compressed by today's standards." It set a precedent for a sound that, in less capable hands, often became predictable, repetitive, and ultimately, devoid of the human element. The defence may speak of innovation, but we will show you an album that, despite its power, ultimately sacrificed warmth and humanity for the cold, unyielding embrace of the machine. This album, we contend, is guilty of establishing a blueprint that, while powerful, often led metal astray. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The defence Members of the court of public opinion, I appreciate the arguments that the Prosecution has levied against the album, but I remind them of the state of metal at the time. This was in 1995, where the metal genre was just on the cusp of breaking into mainstream avenues through acts such as Korn, Limp Bizkit, and in later years, Linkin Park. Where some groups might have changed their formula to reflect the change in trends, I argue that Fear Factory "evolved" their sound not simply to be accessible for newer fans of the genre, but to ensure they did not alienate older fans of their industrial style. Demanufacture indeed sounds emotionally cold and lacks organic warmth; but that is precisely the point of the album. It's a meticulously crafted concept album about a man's struggles against a machine-controlled government, with each song a chapter in his life. As the band themselves stated, the album took its inspiration from the movie The Terminator, and within that context, the 'stark, unfeeling' nature of the album and lack of organic warmth is not a flaw, but a deliberate and essential artistic choice. This is an album that is meant to evoke emotions of technology taking over organic matter, and thus had to prioritise mechanisation over human elements. Not just that, but the very nature of industrial metal lends itself to having a cold, mechanical resonance to it, and I point to the likes of Nine Inch Nails or Godflesh as previous evidence of this aesthetic being central to the genre. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The charges of being lifeless and compressed, giving it a powerful, suffocating feel, are exactly the kind of emotions Fear Factory looked to evoke with the work. Again, members of the court, this is a concept album about technology taking over. The relentless, percussive guitaring perfectly compliments the blunt force nature of the drumming, giving listeners such as myself vivid images of mechanical presses, whirling machinery, and cold, metallic elements as part of the story's chilling narrative. This wasn't a flaw; it was a masterful sonic design choice that immersed the listener in the album's dystopian vision. As for the charge against Burton C. Bell's vocals, his performance perfectly embodies the album's themes of man versus machine. What the Prosecution labels as "off-key" is, I submit, an unfair and superficial judgment. The stark contrast between the desperate, vulnerable human element of Bell's clean singing and the cold, almost automated yells, demonstrates the harrowing duality of the album's core concept. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad It's the sound of humanity struggling for breath against an overwhelming, artificial perfection, and in many respects, a chilling premonition of what life, according to Demanufacture, has become. This vocal interplay isn't a weakness; it's a dynamic storytelling device, full of nuanced emotion that transcends simple melody. Furthermore, to label Demanufacture as a "harmful blueprint" that led metal "astray" is to fundamentally misunderstand its pioneering spirit. This album was not simply following trends; it was very much steadfast in the industrial metal blueprint, while expertly borrowing from the burgeoning groove metal scene that was popular at the time. That it didn't lead metal "astray" should be more of a testament to the importance of the record across the metal genre, rather than dismissing it as building "flimsy structures" going forwards. It's not Fear Factory's fault if other artists were inspired, influenced, or outright cribbed from them and produced second-rate imitations—much like it is unfair to blame The Beatles for a "flimsy structure" regarding the raft of British pop acts that followed them or an act like The Libertines being accused of laying a formula for what has been called these days as 'landfill indie.' True innovation, like that found on Demanufacture, always risks inspiring lesser imitations. This album's influence should be celebrated, not condemned, for opening new sonic pathways in heavy music. I rest my case, your honour(s) Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad
The Guardian
a day ago
- The Guardian
The Assassin to Tyler, the Creator: the week in rave reviews
Prime Video Summed up in a sentence Keeley Hawes puts in a fantastic performance in a hugely fun thriller about a menopausal hitwoman who ends up having to go on the run with her adult son. What our reviewer said 'The Assassin is perfectly crafted preposterousness. It is stylish, witty, tightly written, even more tightly paced and takes the job of massively entertaining us at every turn with the proper amount of seriousness.' Lucy Mangan Read the full review Further reading 'Must-have genre' for uncertain times: why spy thrillers have taken over TV BBC iPlayer Summed up in a sentence A rich, subtle and sophisticated drama about child sexual abuse from renowned writer Jimmy McGovern. What our reviewer said 'It is an altogether richer, more subtle and more sophisticated creation than, say, Adolescence, to which it is likely to be compared; as such, it is unlikely to be adopted as a pseudo policy document by the government. More's the pity.' Lucy Mangan Read the full review Further reading 'I danced my little bottom off!' Anna Friel on a rejuvenating Oasis gig – and her new Jimmy McGovern drama BBC iPlayer Summed up in a sentence A visceral, passionate adaptation of a Booker prize-winning novel that's set in three separate timelines. What our reviewer said 'The Narrow Road to the Deep North is not an easy prospect, but it is an immensely powerful one, driven by strong performances and a bracing confidence in its ability to tell this story, at its own pace, in its own way.' Rebecca Nicholson Read the full review BBC One/iPlayer Summed up in a sentence As he grieves his beloved father, the atheist broadcaster sets off on a pilgrimage that takes him on a surprisingly glorious spiritual adventure. What our reviewer said 'What Amol Rajan Goes to the Ganges expresses most powerfully of all, certainly to this fellow bereaved Hindu, are the irresolvable particularities, and commonalities, of second-generation grief.' Chitra Ramaswamy Read the full review In cinemas now Summed up in a sentence Creepy and tense noir chiller with hints of Lynch and Cronenberg and star and co-writer Ariella Mastroianni radiating suppressed anguish and rage. What our reviewer said 'A genuine skin-crawling unease seeps out of the screen for every second of its running time, helped by a brooding, moaning electronic score by Steve Matthew Carter.' Peter Bradshaw Read the full review In cinemas now Summed up in a sentence Lars Eidinger plays a man embarking on a major orchestral project, but whose professional status is threatened by family turmoil behind the scenes. What our reviewer said 'This is a bleak, bold, extravagantly crazy story which is emotionally incorrect at all times. Perhaps it could have been produced as a streaming-TV production but that would have deprived audiences of the pleasures of swallowing it whole.' Peter Bradshaw Read the full review In cinemas now Summed up in a sentence Marvel offers a superhero family sitcom with Mr Fantastic and Sue Storm living together as a dysfunctional family in a retro-futurist version of early 1960s New York. What our reviewer said 'The result hangs together as an entertaining spectacle in its own innocent self-enclosed universe of fantasy wackiness, where real people actually read the comic books that have made mythic legends of the real Four.' Peter Bradshaw Read the full review Further reading Whiteboard warrior: Marvel is priming Mister Fantastic to be the new leader of the Avengers In cinemas now Summed up in a sentence F Murray Abraham mesmerises as bland court composer Salieri who is eclipsed by Tom Hulce's nitrogen-voiced genius Mozart in Miloš Forman's masterpiece. What our reviewer said 'The pure gorgeous villainy of F Murray Abraham once again floods the screen, as saturnine and sulphurous as ever, in this new rerelease of Amadeus in its original 1984 theatrical cut.' Peter Bradshaw Read the full review Mubi; available now Summed up in a sentence Saule Bliuvaite's debut feature follows two Lithuanian teens seduced by a 'modelling school' promising to take them away from their tough home town. What our reviewer said 'Bliuvaite and her cinematographer Vytautas Katkus contrive striking tableaux and ambient setpieces, creating an emotional context for this drama: a world of alienation and desperate need, but also resilient humour.' Peter Bradshaw Read the full review Out now Summed up in a sentence The posthumously published final collection from a leading poet of our age. What our reviewer said 'It's our great good fortune that Burnside's closing work is also one of his finest. He is attentive to the degradation of nature; staring it in the face and obliging us to stare at it, too. But more often than not, it's the beauty that possesses him.' Sarah Crown Read the full review Further reading John Burnside: 'My stoner friends were into The Hobbit, but Gormenghast was darker' Reviewed by Blake Morrison Summed up in a sentence A writer's reflections as she walks the coast to coast path. What our reviewer said 'What's captivating about her book is all the thinking she does mid- or post-trek: on writing, friendship, welfare, illness, climate change, protest marches, knitting, and why it is that in popular mythology 'walking women' are either models on a catwalk or sex workers.' Read the full review Reviewed by Anthony Cummins Summed up in a sentence A warmly comic saga about two tech entrepreneurs. What our reviewer said 'A critique of disruptor-era genius is less important here than feeling and friendship; the winningly Edwardian, even Victorian, approach to storytelling extends right to the heart-swelling deathbed climax.' Read the full review Reviewed by Ella Risbridger Summed up in a sentence A slippery coming-of-age story about infatuation and ambiguity. What our reviewer said 'The teenage girl, in Forrest's capable and unusual fifth novel, is a kind of bottomless pit of need – for desire, attention and the world to come.' Read the full review Further reading 'It was my gateway drug to self-harm': a writer's journey to finding the joy in makeup Reviewed by Alex Clark Summed up in a sentence A surprising and playful study of the art of translation. What our reviewer said 'Shepherding a piece of writing from one language into another requires so many minute responses, thought processes and decisions that the translator would find it impossible to suppress their own voice.' Read the full review Reviewed by Kathryn Hughes Summed up in a sentence How animals have shaped British identity. What our reviewer said 'Hedgehogs were reputed to sneak into human settlements at night and steal eggs (true) and suck the udders of sleeping cows (almost certainly false).' Read the full review Out now Summed up in a sentence The soul-searching of last year's Chromakopia is expelled – for the most part – by half an hour of early 80s rhythms and slick one-liners with the IDGAF attitude of his early years. What our reviewer said 'Almost all of its 10 tracks seem fixated on the dancefloor. There are 808 beats, Kraftwerk-y electronics, a noticeable smattering of Zapp-like vocoder and electro, among other early 80s genres. The musical reference points are deployed with an evident love and understanding of the source material, never feeling like box-ticking or pastiche; the hooks work with enviable efficiency.' Alexis Petridis Read the full review Out now Summed up in a sentence Almost three decades on, Madonna finally releases the long-promised Ray of Light remix collection. What our reviewer said 'For diehards, the promised record is something of a holy grail. The old demo Gone Gone Gone is brilliantly weird, a wistful breakup ballad set to a squelchy electro beat that gives a surprising amount of insight into Madonna's creative state at the time: here is one of the biggest stars in the world, in her creative prime, throwing anything at the wall to see what sticks.' Shaad D'Souza Read the full review Out now Summed up in a sentence The free-collective energy of one of Braxton's most intuitive groups jostles and enchants on this live recording – salvaged from cassettes – from a 1985 UK tour. What our reviewer said 'Salvaged by state-of-the-art tech methods from former Wire magazine writer and Braxton chronicler Graham Lock's original lo-fi cassette recordings, the set celebrates Braxton's conviction that triggering loose improv through tightly challenging compositions can mirror the everyday flux of living.' John Fordham Read the full review Out now Summed up in a sentence Led by Wendy Eisenberg, the Massachusetts band's third album explores communication challenges in an articulate and exhilarating rock fusion. What our reviewer said 'Editrix make complex music feel organic, like the natural thing to do, and imply that sound succeeds where words often fail us.' Katie Hawthorne Read the full review Out now Summed up in a sentence Once part of the Ohio noise scene, the US producer has moved to Athens, Greece, and makes oscillating bass flute music inspired by the view of the Parthenon from his window. What our reviewer said 'This is blissful ambient music that resonates with a similar depth – though more warmth – to Kali Malone's The Sacrificial Code, and stands to have just as much staying power.' Laura Snapes Read the full review
