This month’s top picks share a common thread: they each offer a respite from the pressures of the outside world. This yearning for rest may represent a reaction to global stress – disillusionment over the BP oil spill, anxiety over the European market, and fears of a second Korean War. If music can make us a little more peaceful, then the more, the better.

The use of music as spiritual nourishment sets into greater contrast the recent series of religious edicts in Somalia, which have sought to ban music from the airwaves under threat of death. Radio stations have responded by playing field recordings; the government has responded by threatening to revoke the licenses of any stations that comply. Caught between a rock and a hard place, the radio stations may have no choice but to shut down. One cannot help but be horrified at the prospect of a nation without music. (iPods are also banned, although few people can afford them.) Music has the power to soothe, to uplift, and to unite. To rob a populace of one of humankind’s greatest gifts is to stifle not only the ability to channel one’s emotions in non-violent fashion, but also the ability to dream of a better and freer world.

As we enjoy this month’s staff picks, let we give thanks for music itself, as well as for the right to hear and perform it. We are fortunate to be able to enjoy this simple pleasure that for many is not an inalienable right.

It’s quite likely that Hammock and Olan Mill will go down as creating the two best ambient albums of the year, so seeing the two of them occupying the #1 and #2 spots here is not surprising. Pine is a graceful, subtle album that is very modern and imaginative, whereas Chasing After Shadows… is blunt, powerful album that is timeless and affecting. The two represent different schools of thought within the ambient world, and comparing them can be as difficult as comparing apples and oranges. Hammock’s slight advantage might be in its irresistible charm. The masterful duo wastes no time digging into the listener, and the lengthy album never lets a dull second pass. Hammock has been the cat’s meow at TSB for half a decade, and even though it started on top of its scene, it might actually be better better with age. (Jordan Volz)

Somewhere between the beauty of noise and the innocence of quietude rest the pleasant tones of Pine. Moving effortlessly through passages of pipe organ and piano, this music envelops the listener in an aura of sonic bliss, as evidenced by the enochian tranquility of “An Obident Ear,” the heavenly calls of “A Heavy Leg Cycle,” and the cathartic drones of “Country.” The album’s brevity belies the fact that it hides many musical subtleties. Those in search of peaceful music will find a treasure here. (Tom Meagher)

Phon manages to be many things at once. This single 42-minute track is a study in precision, with every note deliberately placed for maximum effect. It’s a battle between the natural (buoys, bees & bells) and the processed (clarinet, guitar & soundboard). It’s an exercise in volume, ranging from near silence to defiant drone. But more than any of these, Phon is an intensely musical piece that surprises the listener at every turn, using abstraction to unseat melody and crescendo to comment on withdrawal. As a meditation on sound, Phon is easily more than the sum of its parts; it’s a philosophical treatise that begs for wider discussion. (Richard Allen)

After a decade and a half of the dumbing down and ultimate commoditization of hip-hop, Steven Ellison (a.k.a. Flying Lotus) seems poised to save all of us heads and hoist the genre back from the brink. However, with Cosmogramma, Ellison has leapt the chasm into an untapped realm. Now the question is, can anybody else keep up? By including friends like Thom Yorke, “Flylo” spreads the genre’s boundaries. He re-thinks the whole approach to hip-hop, while firmly restating the style’s familial jazz connection. Though never fear hip-hop heads, because with a rump-shakin’ masher like “Do the Astral Plane,” we can still dance until our shirts are soaked with sweat and warming under the dawn’s light. Get ready to groove through the summer months with Cosmogramma! (Gabriel Bogart)

When electronic music producers join forces to make an album of their own, one can be pretty sure it’s going to sound great. The X factor is whether or not the work will have urgency, emotional peaks, and a story worth following. Drink the Sea shows a mastery of pacing and production, dropping amazing beats and cinematic detours at just the right moments. The Glitch Mob’s debut is chock full of prime, dirty, cerebral dance music that doesn’t make one think, “this is cerebral dance music.” It’s just supremely good! (Nayt Keane)

Esther Marie is the debut release from Montreal’s Mains de Givre, a violin and guitar-drone duo who paint haunting soundscapes, punctuated by beauty. The presence of Erich Quach (thisquietarmy/destroyalldreamers) on guitar lends the project an air of familiarity, but the addition of Emilie Livernois-Desroches’ violin makes the release special. Her deeply expressive lines perfectly complement the murky, effect-treated drone in which she occasionally drowns. Not to downplay Quach’s contribution, which provides the backdrop against which this dance takes place, but the violin seems capable of translating emotion in a much more visceral way, granting the record an elegant appeal that is rare in the field of drone. (Joseph Sannicandro)

This Italian outfit has been attracting attention in the European underground stoner sludge circuit for years. On this, Ufomammut’s fifth full length release, the band builds on the destructive doom and ambient-psychedelic slabs of its most annihilating and jawdropping efforts. With the precise execution and the overwhelming force of a Roman army, this berserk beast drapes its dazzling darkness over listeners, dipping them in its haunting yet empowering universe. As an added bonus, the beautiful Eve comes wrapped in Malleus’ artwork, and is unmatched in the field of heavy duty and high quality design and packaging. A must have for anyone who likes to be lost in gorgeous artwork and dirty sludge. (Jurgen Verhasslet)

Seattle’s Sleepy Eyes of Death is revolutionizing the west coast post-rock scene with an infusion of thick, ominous electronics. Produced by Matt Bayles, Toward a Damaged Horizon explores the space between light and sound. One song swoops toward the next, carrying the listener on a dark journey. Vast, rich soundscapes are painted by a mix of electronics and standard instrumentation. The listener can venture deep inside this album, wander around, and be left in want of nothing. (Nikki Benson)