It's quite extraordinary how Natacha Atlas can seamlessly combine so many languages and genres. On Something Dangerous, while singing in Arabic, Hindi, English and French, she draws her musical backing from drum & bass, Parisian vaudeville, R&B, ambient dance, pop, rap and film music, and never once do her sonic movements feel remotely gratuitous. Indeed, every track on Something Dangerous is of the highest quality. In this, she's undoubtedly aided by a stellar guest-list. Atlas is more than ready to step back and leave room for a love-hungry rap from Princess Julianna ("Just like a Dream"), some punchy positivist soul from Niara Scarlett ("Who's My Baby") and an insistent lament from Sinead O'Connor ("Simple Heart"). Add to these the grand orchestrations of Jocelyn Pook, the wacky Gem keyboards of Gamal Awad and the mournful trumpet of the late Sami El Babli, plus the efforts of Jah Wobble, Count Dubulah and Transglobal Underground and you have a collection that never veers from the classy. As a round-the-world excursion, Something Dangerous has more in common with Peter Gabriel at his coffee-table easiest than with the wild wanderings of Kate Bush. Nevertheless, for those who like their chill-out music to rise above the bland, there's much here to enjoy. -Dominic Wills.

Sound-Dust is the eighth instalment in Franglais kitsch crusaders Stereolab's seemingly endless quest of rewriting the path of musical past-yet another album set on taking the neglected detours off the Pop Highway and following them into lush parallel universes of hypnotic melodic charm. However, they are now far from the only catalogue-rummagers reviving the past in bold new forms; with the likes of Broadcast, Add N to (X) and Ladytron clutching-impressively, it must be said-at the Lab's back-to-the-future baton, Sound-Dust really needs to pull off some spectacular tricks to compete. Despite the very respectable collaborators onboard-that's Tortoise's John McEntire and sometime Sonic Youth Jim O'Rourke on production, with The High Llamas' Sean O'Hagen contributing to arrangements-Sound-Dust can't help but feel like a retread of old ground. So, beyond the rather likable spine-tingling opener "Black Ants in Sound"-all twirling brass and punchy one-finger Moog riffage-the likes of "Nothing to Do with Me" and "Gus the Mynah Bird" find marimbas and xylophones dissolving into a decidedly dull pastel-coloured lounge-funk melange. If they're really trying to carve out a new sound, maybe Stereolab should think up some new ideas: Sound Dust is the sound of The Future imperfect. -Louis Pattison.

Jump Leads is the eighth full-length LP from Hull-based sound sculptors Fila Brazillia-an undeniably impressive achievement in the often ephemeral world of electronic music. How they've fitted it in is anybody's guess, what with their recent Another Late Night and Brazilification mix albums, a world tour (first time with a live band) and setting up their own label 23 Records. For their latest document the duo keep the emphasis on accessible and musical yet blatantly quirky sounds, infusing their beats with analogue warmth, live instrumentation and song-writing prowess. Like friends and fellow Humberside-dwellers Baby Mammoth, this year has seen the band plug into some of the varied and musical upbeat sounds currently around, though their album also features plenty of their usual downtempo material. Mellow tracks like recent single "Spill The Beans"-which uses the velvety vocal talents of Steve Edwards-highlight their knack of writing catchy hooks but there is a wide range of other material here such as the warm, chunky funk of "DNA", the kooky feel of "We Build Arks" and the dark, percussive Brazilian swing of "Percival Quintaine". An album of many colourful and exotic shades Jump Leads can only please Fila fans and newcomers alike. -Paul Sullivan.

Humour. Not enough of it in electronic music, or so they say. Well, thank goodness for Programmed To Love because as it says on the sleeve notes-"They are Bent". Obvious innuendo aside, the duo are actually bent in the sense that their approach to making electronic music is seriously skewed. The two are Masters of Whimsy, building lush soundscapes from humorous dialogue, fey electronica and even a few frisky efforts like the thinly veiled metaphor for sodomy that is "Chocolate Star". As listening experiences go, the sample-based Programmed to Love is a genuine pleasure. Blankets of melody rise and fall gently over innocuous rhythms, with the odd cosmic sound thrown in for good measure. The duo allegedly locked themselves in a studio for a couple of weeks with just their equipment and a load of vodka for this album, but while some of the tracks bear an amusing, crapulous quality (such as the now classic tune "Swollen", the folkish, almost unearthly "Private Road" (featuring vocalist Zoe Johnston) and the lewd "Chocolate Star"), many of the tracks here are simply enigmatic and charming. From the acoustic chug of "Cylons In Love," the funky "Invisible Pedestrian" and the subtly sweeping feel of "I Remember Johnny", this is a very original and captivating album that posits a genuinely alternative sound to the likes of other downtempo acts like Air, Zero 7 and Royksopp. -Paul Sullivan.

An astonishingly intense and ambitious album, Elbow's Cast of Thousands is relentlessly experimental. Having toiled for 10 years over their spellbinding Mercury-nominated debut Asleep in the Back, the maverick Bury five-piece-who were initially hailed as the new Radiohead-have produced a worthy sequel in a comparatively short two years. While mirroring their debut's melancholy tone, this album's romantic lyricism and uplifting harmonies inject a fresh dynamic. From the first bar, Cast of Thousands is enthralling. "Ribcage", an exquisite rousing treasure, builds on a languorous and fragmented melody into a cohesive climax while Garvey listlessly intones (with a flat mic taped to his larynx) the charming mantra, "When the sunshine/ throwing me a lifeline/ finds its way in to my room/ all I need is you". Meanwhile The London Community Gospel choir's spiralling harmonies echo Blur's "Tender" in its lo-fi, mellifluous majesty. But the majority of the album is far less grandiose with the haunting "Snooks (Progress Report)" and "I've Got Your Number" bristling with an unnerving intimacy and brooding dialogue. It's an enchanting return that finds Elbow stretching from despair to lovelorn tenderness. -Christopher Barrett.

Confield, the sixth album from Warp duo Autechre, takes a step sideways from their usual techno with the contents closer to the fusion of shattered synthetic elements with organic melodic constructs that dominated their early work than the robotic clangs and clinks, which defined much of LP5. As such, while the opening "VI Scose Poise" prevents delicate orchestration from straying into orbit by way of sheer percussive filaments, "Pen Expers" is obtuse in its contrast-the soundtrack for a 23rd Century retro b-boy, making shapes on a lino of titanium. And so it goes on, Brown and Booth unrelenting in their desire to twist something beautiful from shattered arrangements-non-noises and static colliding in the ether to form rich melodies or subtle changes in beat dynamics before the CD skips and drag these elements back into crunching electronics. Emotional yet hard to handle, lush while still abrasive-an album of contrasts which is certain to satisfy Ae veterans as well as those new to the sound. -Kingsley Marshall.

Understood in any language, across any time zone, Global Communication tolls for the human spirit which knows no boundaries. As one of the most significant releases to cross the ambient currents of the 1990s, 76:14 places itself alongside benchmark electronic releases from Brian Eno, the Orb, and the Future Sound of London. These synth-dominated ventures allow the armchair traveller to indulge in atmospheric wanderings which suggest virtual galactic discovery. But often enough the textured beats keep things grounded to dissuade the listener from being lost in the void. Vocal samples from nine languages also remind us of the international and diplomatic intentions of this otherwise electro-instrumental album. Strap in and enjoy the lift-off for all mankind. -Lucas Hilber.

After the huge critical success of Musik and Sheet One and a justified reputation as one of the best live techno acts ever, Plastikman's third album is a move away from the dancefloor. An alias for Canadian technohead and co-founder of Detroit label +8 Richie Hawtin, Plastikman has created the soundtrack for surveillance videos. Incredibly dark and atmospheric, Hawtin plays with the empty places in your head. Electronic noises echo through space as if in barren warehouses. Melodic acid lines drift over never-ending beats in the eerily bleak "Locomotion" and "Contain". This intense music is best heard in quiet isolation, not before a night out on the tiles. -Ed Potton.