I always felt that Zaba was the first record in its post-rock style to challenge Alt-J’s dominance in this ill-defined genre. On How to be a Human Being, Glass Animals surpass Alt-J to become, in my mind, one of the most inventive post-rock, alt-electronic groups out there.

How to Be a Human Being begs the question: How does one classify music like this? The pop structures, rock energy, and electronic sounds create a bizarre — but appealing — mix that seems eminently malleable and mineable for a new generation of musicians. How to Be a Human Being is a record of constant imagination.

Even people who don’t like Glass Animals couldn’t accuse them of being unoriginal. Every track on the record sounds different — compare “Pork Soda” to “Take a Slice”, for example. The band rarely, if ever, repeats themselves.

How to Be a Human Being has hints of everything from Justin Timberlake (“Season 2 Episode 3”) to blues rock (“Poplar St.”). It’s one of the most diverse records of the year. It’s a record that’s a result of touring, and all the new life experience that entails.

But at the same time as the band is rapidly — and aggressively — expanding their sound, they’re also doing something unexpected. How to Be a Human Being strips back the production slightly, dressing down the tracks compared to Zaba.

It’s a subtle effect, but it works nonetheless: despite Glass Animals’ continued experimentation, it never feels like they’re anything less than approachable.

To be clear: the production doesn’t sound bad, not even remotely. It’s still a well-made, well-executed record. But the production allows Glass Animals to make experimental, unusual music without ever sacrificing its listen-ability.

All that being said, it’s hard to discuss How to Be a Human Being right now. It’s the musical equivalent of The Empire Strikes Back: a sequel whose language is so different from what came before that it will take time to judge and understand it properly. I imagine we won’t fully understand the magnitude of this record until we can judge it within the full spectrum of Glass Animals’ complete discography.

That’s a good thing. The Empire Strikes Back was panned when it was released, but now many regard it as one of the best films ever made. Clearly, How to Be a Human Being is a tremendous record. It has the all the feelings of a masterpiece. But I don’t know if it’s a masterpiece yet. It’s too early to call it. (If it’s not a masterpiece, then it’s certainly evidence that Glass Animals is capable of making one.)

For the time being, How to Be a Human Being is an impeccable record. It demands your attention, and your repeated listening. And I can’t wait to talk about it a decade from now.

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Untouchable Skin isn’t doing anything new, but while other electronic producers are experimenting with avant-grade genre-pushing boundaries, it’s great to see somebody stick with what works. Grenda’s rhythmic pulsing music is both trip-hop and electro-pop, with strong hints of techno throughout. It’s often mesmerizing.

Element of Risk is his first single, and with an aggressive drum track, it sounds like the marrying of Trent Reznor and Flume. But it’s also incredibly visual music, music that you can “see” as you listen.

At the same time, the inescapable weakest link in Amezcua’s music is the vocal work. Tracks where his singing is dominant don’t work as well as the electronic efforts. Thankfully, it sounds like he’s realized this: he uses his voice to amplify the electronic work, matching and harmonizing in simple ways that sound like an electronic version of what Ozzy Osbourne was originally doing in Black Sabbath fifty years ago.

It’s a good call: vocals-as-texture is an appropriate approach here, especially since the album feels like an experiment in textural loops and minor variations on themes. Blind Folded is another great example: his voice does minor backing duties to the instruments, which are densely packed in maximalist fashion, as if Grenda is challenging us to suggest another way he could layer everything.

Dry Lips is a standout track as well because it reveals Grenda’s attention to detail: he’s a self-aware electronic producer that is far more advanced than many of his older peers. And while his vocabulary is limited (Higher sounds like many other tracks on the record, for example), his ability to marry elements into dense packages that each feel unique gets him very far.

The biggest question for Grenda is simple: what comes next? As great as Untouchable Skin is, it feels like a clear exploration of a single theme. If he can continue to expand his sounds, Amezcua is going to have a great future with this electronic work.

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All of the greatness on this record comes from Little Dragon’s experience — this is their fourth record now — and from their innate sense of style. What makes Little Dragon great is their music’s intensity, and awareness of the live context. I love how each song on the record sounds like it’d be excellent live — it’s a different take on the electronic dance genre, that normally plays better when it’s performed on tape or by a DJ. Little Dragon is meant to play live.

Their experience with concerts definitely shines here. The singles are the most magnetic, energetic tracks on the record — the sort of thing Little Dragon would use to rile up a crowd. Paris is a great example of a song that relies on synths, but has the feel of a live band that would translate so well to a live audience.

Nabuma Rubberband is the sound of a band perfectly maturing and preparing for world domination. It’s a powerhouse of a record and a great sign of even more things to come as the band matures.

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Chet’s a master of blending jazz, blues, and a hint of electronic experimentation into an enjoyable cocktail that goes down smooth. His voice has tons of soul, belying his years — he’s not even thirty. What’s most impressive is that Built on Glass is his debut feature-length record, which — considering his vast array of musical influences — is shocking.

The opening track, Release Your Problems, is a great introduction to the record — heavy-hitting, but still catchy — but I could ultimately write a long essay about this album’s many successes. The record is neatly divided by a vocal track simply titled / , but the first half is sprinkled with great songs like Gold and To Me, which has as lovely saxophone emphasis.

The second half of the record really shines. Blush is a stunner. My favourite track off any of the records featured this week, though, is Cigarettes & Loneliness, which is a lush and beautiful look at the most difficult and sad of feelings. Although it’s the least likely to get radio play, Cigarettes & Loneliness feels like it’s really the pivot point of the entire record. Steeped in sadness and buried in synth tones, this is Faker at his most experimental and exploratory. It’s an immensely rewarding listen.

One album in, and it already feels like Chet Faker is one of the genre’s most eclectic and interesting artists. Built on Glass is a stunner, and one that doesn’t feel like it could possibly shatter.

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Trent Reznor’s work here is obviously influenced by his more electronic Nine Inch Nails records, which I love. In fact, some songs — like In Motion — are remixes of work from Nine Inch Nail’s Ghosts (which is also a fantastic record).

Hand Covers Bruise is drenched in melancholy, but A Familiar Taste is dripping with angst. The Gentle Hum of Anxiety is a perfect title for one of the most anxiety-inducing bits of music from a film I’ve ever heard. But at the end of the day, the track you most need to hear from this is the cover of In the Hall of the Mountain King.

If there was ever an obvious pairing, it’s Trent Reznor and David Fincher. Both of them are fascinated by using digital techniques to improve what are traditionally analogue mediums. While both are praised by fans and critics, there’s also a left-wing conservative group of people in both mediums who say they’re going against what music and film is all about. But it doesn’t matter. With The Social Network in particular, they’ve made their piece de resistance: a piece of digital art in an analogue framework about a movement to make real relationships more digital and artificial. There’s something beautiful about that.

Film soundtracks are interesting because they rarely stand on their own. The Social Network not only stands on its own, but it’s one of my all-time favourite albums — and perhaps my favourite electronic album of all time.

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