Simon Posford's sophomore outing Tales of the Inexpressible follows on from 1999s Are You Shpongled with more post-trance psychedelica. Post is the operative word as, although this latest album enjoys all of the trappings of the genre, unlike many of its contemporaries it manages not to get caught up in a DMT fuelled dead end of either ethnically correct instrumentals or the mind(less)-expanding fractal acid of Goa trance. Posford, again accompanied by ex-Quintessence and talented flautist Raja Ram, is unafraid of live instrumentation but succeeds in fusing these elements seamlessly into synthetic ambience-hence acoustic guitar on the opening "Dorset Perception" and Harry Escot's dub bass on the subsequent "Star Shpongled Banner". Couple this with a confident production style and forays into everything from drum & bass to dub and you have another accomplished album from the Hallucinogenic Soundlabs. -Kingsley Marshall.

Having pretty much cornered the market for great dance compilations with Clubber Guides, Trance Nations, Annuals and the like, Ministry Of Sound took a step away from the dancefloor with its first major chillout compilation The Chillout Session. And as with their more uptempo assortments, the quality of the tracks is superlative. From the subtle downtempo beats and pieces of Jakatta's "American Dream" to the Ibizan sunset vibes of York's "The Awakening" to horizontal classics like Lemon Jelly's "In The Bath" and Leftfield's "Melt", you can almost picture the lava lamp steadily bubbling away in the corner of the room. It's not all instrumental tracks, either, Alex Gopher's "The Child" and Fatboy Slim and Macy Gray's collaboration on "Demons" both pop up to add a little bit of late-night soul. The only problem is who gets up to put the second CD on. -Helen Marquis.

The title, coupled with a sleeve depicting an Apollo launch pad with a huge middle finger giving that gesture, summarises the ethos of former Killing Joke roadie Alex Patterson's The Orb. Their musical scale is gargantuan and fearlessly meandering, taking in ambient, reggae, techno and innumerable mutated samples. In order to pre-empt "prog-rave" tags or accusations of Pink Floyd-style pretentiousness, however, Paterson and his various collaborators always took a facetious, self-deflating approach to their work. In spite of the aura of silliness shrouding The Orb-as evinced on titles like "A Huge Evergrowing Pulsating Brain That Rules From The Centre Of The Underworld"-they can't puncture the delights of the freewheeling, orbiting "Pomme Fritz" or the intoxicating "Little Fluffy Clouds" with its ingenious sample of a Rickie Lee Jones interview. This compilation could either serve as an introduction to The Orb or as sufficient for those unwilling to follow them on some of their more extreme sonic excursions. -David Stubbs.

Beaucoup Fish is Underworld's third studio album and sees them return to form after a slightly lacklustre second LP (Second Toughest In The Infants). Not that this latest missive from the famous trio (Darren Emerson, Karl Hyde and Rick Smith) possesses the same raw energy as their debut Dubnobasswithmyheadman, but it does benefit from differences such as more experimental use of sounds, slicker production and a generally more intricate feel. The albums opener "Cups" is a case in point, a subtle, fluid grower that sees Hyde's usually excitable vocals toned down and more ensconced in the mix. The trio show that they are still fond of pumping chemical onslaughts though with the redoubtable "Push Upstairs" and other thumping club tracks like "Jumbo", "Something Like A Mama", "Kittens and Moaner". The trio have obviously decided to try a few new things out on this LP too, such as "Shudder/King of Snakes", which starts with a wonky Oriental vibe before morphing into nine minutes of drum-fuelled propulsion and heavy sounds. Hyde's voice-which comes close to a kind of rhythmic scatting here-continues to stay low for the most part (though fans can still discern his nonsensical lyrics), becoming more assertive on tracks like the mellow, beatless Skym. Elsewhere, tracks like "Bruce Lee" sees Underworld experiment with a hip hop beat and some Dadaist vocals, and with some meandering breakbeat on "Something Like a Mama", though neither track seems to come off terribly well. If anything, this album proves that Underworld are best when they stick to their classic, distinctive club sound. -Paul Sullivan.

Though both Groove Armada's Tom Findlay and Andy Cato hail from London, the pair choose to kick back to Ambleside in Cumbria when recording. As with a great deal of dance music through the 1990s, though broadly still considered house, the sound of Vertigo takes as much from the jaded, trip-hop of Bristol as it does from the uplifting house of Studio 54. It is this collusion which defines the LP with the vocal of "In My Bones" ruffled by a techno low end while the chugging backbeats of "Chicago" act to set off a delicate Chic-esque guitar. With an ear for spine-tingling samples lending a gentle weight to what would otherwise be innocuous instrumentals, the crumpled breaks of "At The River" perhaps offer the best example of this, and even the more straightforward forays into the genre are enlivened and enriched by broad influences, the pair have created a modern day classic. -Kingsley Marshall.

Rounds, the third album from Four Tet, confirms its maker, London-based laptop musician Kieran Hebden, as one of modern British music's most contradictory characters: a bedroom composer that obsesses over the roughest new UK garage and hip-hop cuts, yet tucked up in his studio writes harp-laden melodic pieces that sound like the gentle flutter of a cherub's wings and have titles like "My Angel Rocks Back And Forth". Every Four Tet album is inscrutably, sometimes indescribably lovely, and Rounds is no exception. On first listen, it sounds like a near twin of 2001's Pause-a cerebral, organic-sounding journey through vistas of gentle European folk music, Balinese percussion and next-wave hip-hop rhythms. But even Four Tet on autopilot is pretty essential stuff: the opening "Hands" layers shards of stroked acoustic chords and chrome-smooth electronic swishes into a glimmering fog of sound, before tethering it down with crashing drumkit percussion; the bare "Unspoken" sounds like DJ Shadow collaborating with some obscure minimalist composer. In this meditative work, Hebden does so much to dispel the notion that electronic music has to be cold and clinical. Long may he contradict. -Louis Pattison.