Susumu Yokota came to the attention of the clued-up musical public with Grinning Cat's predecessor Sakura, a minor ambient classic that found this homely Japanese sound technician showered with critical plaudits, and compared-not without good reason, we might add-to 1970s ambient pioneer Brian Eno. While Eno's classic Music for Airports was a muzak benchmark for sound in the public sphere, Yokota's muse follows an urge towards the bliss of privacy; Grinning Cat is, Yokota explains, an album about living out a domestic fairytale with his girlfriend and a family of cats in the quiet suburbs of Tokyo. Its essence is the exquisitely layered minimalism of "King Dragonfly" where hands clap, drums pitter-patter, wind chimes gentle sway and an acoustic guitar is neatly picked to create an ornate, yet uniform tapestry of sounds-but deeper into "Grinning Cat", more disquieting moments simmer. On "Fearful Dream", psychedelic pipes and an atonal banjo strum bubble under the gentle, stuttering loop of sparse piano, while album closer "Lost Child" breathes spectral hushes and unsettling glitches through alternate speakers in the most disconcerting manner. Still, Yokota is only playing; Grinning Cat is a perfect find for fans of the quiet stuff-warm, comforting and always welcoming to visitors. -Louis Pattison.

For System 7's latest excursion Seventh Wave, we're presented once again with a diverse selection of dancefloor music that merges the tribal structures of progressive house with the harder edge of techno and other experimental electronica influences. Steve Hillage and Miquette Giraudy of System 7 are no strangers to the world of production, nor indeed the world of psychedelic electronics. The pair were both in 1970s proto-trance rock group Gong in the 1970s, and as dance producers have been making tunes since the 1980s. "Manik Shamanik" (a collaboration with French DJ Bruno Carala of French disco house crew Rinoceros) gets the party started, a slowly building track that eventually morphs impressively into a spacious and slightly dubbed out cut, all pounding beats and building trance riff finish. From there we encounter the usual broad spectrum. There's the energetic, percussive, Bedrock-style of first single "High Plains Drifter", the dubby bass and swirling ethno-ambience of "7 O'Clock", the vehement trance-acid feel of "Varkala" and the euphoric/cheesy "Chiringuito" for a finale. There are some calmer moments too, which break the album up nicely, though the dubious Balearic charm of "Sal Del Mar" fares badly next to the ambient breakbeat of "Soft Rain", a collaboration with Alex 'Orb' Paterson. A nicely varied but not very surprising project, this is the sound of System 7 ultimately doing exactly what they do best. -Paul Sullivan.

During their long reign as one of dance music's most endearing acts, the Orbital sound has rarely changed. The result: five albums of beautiful electronic space-symphonies, blunt dancefloor beats and eccentric cinematic themes. And so to album six, 2001's The Altogether. From the start, it's clear that this is no ordinary Orbital album. Gone are the space-opuses of old, replaced by rock-sampling instrumentals, what can be described as "techno skiffle" numbers and David Gray collaborations. Of the 11 tracks here, three are punk-sampling breakbeat romps (think 1996 hit Satan), two are full-on vocal numbers and one's a breakneck drum-and-bass tune about rioting (the Scott Walker-inspired Meltdown). Sure, all the familiar elements are here-tracks such as "Pay Per View", "Doctor Who" and "Shadows" are classic Orbital-but they're no longer the most dominant themes. While fans may find The Altogether uncomfortable listening at first, it's easily the Hartnolls' most varied album to date. Within its 60 minutes lies some of the duo's most inventive and enjoyable music in years. This is a real mixed bag, for sure, but one that demands repeat listens. [+]

There are more tributes to Miles Davis's acoustic jazz groups of the 1950s and 1960s than one can easily count. But there are precious few explorations, like Panthalassa, of his outlaw electric jazz period, dating from 1969 to 1974. Himself a studio outlaw of sorts, bassist and producer Bill Laswell goes a good distance rectifying the lack of attention paid to Davis's growling, funky electric period. He remixes and "translates" the dramatic slowness of In a Silent Way and smoothes over the abrasive jump cuts and edits that have made On the Corner a blazing listen for over 25 years. Laswell builds ambient-dub spreads on Davis's electro-fusion architecture, and he makes heavy funk out of the Davis band's mix of low-end bassiness and high-end soprano sax and electric piano. Look out for more paeans to the previously maligned electric period in Miles Davis's career. -Andrew Bartlett.

The Orb-aka Dr Alex Paterson-is a likely candidate to host an instalment of DMC's eclectic Back to Mine series. A former roadie for Killing Joke and an original acid house/ambient stalwart, his musical tastes are notoriously wide and often surprising. Given a blank slate to work with, there was always a good chance he would fill it with intriguing and diverse sounds. And indeed he has. He begins with Aphex Twin's swirling, mystical breakbeat monster "Polynominal-C", before dipping into slow-mo territory with Charles Webster's languid jazz lullaby "Be No One". After these contrasting openers, we get the driven ethno-house of Juno Reactor's driven "Nitrogen Part 1", the epic ambient workout of B12's "Interim", humorous hip-hop with Creature's "Ow Much!" and soaring soul beauty from the Chi-Lites classic "Have You Seen Her?". Add to this Thomas Fehlmann's aquatically strange "I Wanna Be a Fishy", the breathy beauty of Julee Cruise's "Falling" and the Orb's own "The Land of Green Ginger" and you have one varied and entertaining compilation-something not too common these days. -Paul Sullivan.