The music is an amalgamation of folk, indie, gospel and country, all drenched in shimmering reverb. The songs unwind like roads, or stories. Case's voice is as large as the Blue Ridge Mountains, flavored by torch and twang. Her lyrics are meandering vignettes, like the films of Robert Altman and character sketches, like Suzanne Vega or Joni Mitchell, circa THE HISSING OF SUMMER LAWNS. America is mythic land of darkness and salvation in these ultimately catchy songs.

Her voice is similar to Jolie Holland's, while the music mixes Bjork's soundscapes with Susannah and the Magic Orchestra's mellow electronics.

Sylvi Ali has an eerie operatic voice that reminds one of Lisa Gerrard in swoops and depths. Her music is a dark and personal mixture of operatic arias, folk songs, and dark rock not unlike PJ Harvey at her most mellow. The lyrics are full of esoteric images–names made of numbers, snakes–and themes of madness and visions. It's the sort of album that Nico might have made, if she had more range. Harmonium, upright bass, cello, and her own marvelous keyboard player accompanies her meditive and majestic singing.

When we last heard from Ms. Fury, she set her dark tales against romantic piano balladry. Her voice was low and delicate, and she added a dark glamour to the girl and a piano subgenre.

Her new 6 song ep, “Subterfuge,” is something else entirely. There are elements of the romantic piano pieces, but they are drowned in claustrophobic loops and drum programs. Her whispery voice is augmented with echoes and overdubbed screams and moans, and she sing-speaks some of the words. Organs and weirdly tuned synths compete with the piano. The gallows humor quotient is upped: one of her…

The wild song of the Bacchae, as they rip men to shreds…

Imagine Sarah Brightman fronting the Penguin Orchestra produced by Brian Eno. Twee, classical, dreamy, and confessional all at once. As a vocalist, she is an influence on Alison Shaw of Cranes–spooky little girl vocals.

Mihaela Repina and Paul Bradbury make light, mysterious and mostly acoustic music that draws from Eastern European folk and Brazilian samba, with a dash of jazz. Both sing in Slovenian—she in a dusky voice that recalls Lou Rhodes from Lamb, he in a light tenor that reminds one of Ben Watt. The music dances on the edge of being too precious and twee—one song features a cat purring. But the harmonies are solid, the instrumentation inventive—harps, psaltery and cello are added to mix, and Repina’s alto is truly bewitching. On such tracks as “Nader Margh” and “White Lady Mirror,” her…

In the liner notes of a St. Etienne cd, the writer asks the question, why must avant-garde music be ugly? Loveliness can be as valid tool as the shocking or the terrifying.

Antoine Bedard, the force behind Montag, lives in an alternate universe, where laptops play chime-filled French lounge music, where slick sophistication mingles with abstraction. Imagine Holly Golightly hosting a pink champagne party in the Apple Store. Slate grey minimalism and feather boas…

The dreamy yet structured compositions float and soothe. Touchstones for this style of post-pop are Broadcast and Stereolab. Like those bands, they meld easy-listening 60s, machine…

The photographer Walter Wick makes whimsical tapestries of knick knacks against neon hued backgrounds. Toy ballerinas, soldiers, confetti, snowflakes: all of the chaotic mess of a toy box. In Mister Rogers’ neighborhood, the small train led us to the Land of Make Believe with the heralds of chimes, music boxes and vibraphones. Colleen (or Cecile Schott) takes us to a land of make believe where everything shimmers and vibrates. Deconstructed music box figures, gently stroked harpstrings and windchimes disappear in the toybox of her laptop. What comes out are aural tapestries, redolent of wonder-ennui-terror of childhood. Fairies coexist with the…

The Scottish folklorist Andrew Lang collected European myths and folktales, retold them for a Victorian audience, and grouped them according to theme and, ultimately, color. Australian singer-songwriter Louisa John-Krol has a background as professional storyteller, and like Lang, has found a common theme, stories of the Green Man, and uses this album to explore a cross-cultural archetype, from the English Robin Hood to the Welsh Atho. The wonderfully whimsical package comes with extensive liner notes, including an essay about the appearances of the Green Man in world mythology. It’s a high concept album that sounds pretentious and self-indulgent on paper.…