After the amiable lo-fi debut If I Am Only My Thoughts, Loving makes a self-proclaimed “sonic leap” on sophomore stunner Any Light. Of course, this seamless transition to the studio is a credit to the Canadian duo’s charmingly unwavering formula. With delayed vocals that don’t kick in until nearly two minutes, the gentle acoustic strum of the title track sets the perfect tone for this remarkably intimate collection of songs.

Brazilian guitarist Fabiano Do Nascimento and Los Angeles producer Eddie Ruscha (aka E Ruscha V and Secret Circuit) team up for the gorgeously ambient and adventurous Aquáticos, released earlier this year on the ever-reliable Music From Memory label. Pairing Nascimento’s 7 and 10-string nylon guitars with Ruscha’s modular synths, drum machines, and vintage keyboards, the duo create meditative, electro-acoustic sounds with an alchemical fluidity.

May 1980, London: Dub poet Linton Kwesi Johnson drops Bass Culture on Chris Blackwell’s Island Records, the first of two LPs he’d release that year. Jamaica-born and Brixton-raised, the album finds Johnson distilling Babylon’s heavy hand into deep, subterranean basslines laced with incendiary street-level missives — “muzik of blood, black reared pain, rooted heart geared, all tensed up.”

Released sometime in the late 70s, Tilaye Gebre’s album as a featured performer was taken from a one-take, single microphone live recording during their residency at the capital’s Ghion Hotel. Unfolding across nine, slow-burning tracks, the band feels woozily cool, locked in a groove that feels unconscious. There’s a telepathic current running through the players that fashions a sound both nocturnal and bright but a little grizzled by its stripped-down recording texture too.

CPN Hollywell has a voice like a cat’s tongue, raspy but soft, with the rough-edged blues-i-ness of Greg Cartwright, the anthemic rock burr of Royal Headache’s Shogun Wall, the frenetic garage-roots energies of Thee Retail Simps. His band, out of New Orleans, plays a cracked, county-tinged punk rock, crusted in fuzz and zinging with frantic slides.

Tracked live to tape at Sessa and Biel Basile’s São Paulo studio, Krok captures the Belarusian outfit in a moment of transition, stretching the sinewy tendrils of their earlier work into something more expansive and self-possessed. Where their previous LP steeped itself in the gentle saudade of Brazil’s Clube da Esquina, Krok pulls the lens back as the palette broadens and horizons turn transcontinental.

Though there are antecedents to Dark’s sound—think Cream or Jefferson Airplane at their haziest—there’s something singular about Dark. Opener “Darkside” is lithe but muscular, and like early Sabbath, there’s a jazziness to it that suggests an alternate universe where Impulse put out the first heavy metal records.

New Orleans — birthplace of the syncopated rhythm splinter known as the second-line. Cut to 1974. Drummer and composer David Lee Jr. quietly releases his lone solo LP, the Afro‑futurist Evolution, privately pressed to just 400 copies on his own Supernal Records imprint. A percussive spiritual meditation in motion, the record folds intricate polyrhythms into hypnotic, repetitive loops that sound as urgent and on-point today as they did half a century ago. Four hundred copies. Infinite resonance.