Lars Gotrich

Myrkur's Amalie Bruun makes black metal that is at once savage and sylvan, capable of harrowing violence one moment and beauty the next. Last year's self-titled EP was full of unharnessed promise, but with members of Mayhem and producer Kristoffer "Garm" Rygg (whose mid-'90s work with Ulver no doubt informs Myrkur), the forthcoming M gives body to the Nordic folk song, choral arrangements and shoegaze that haunt Bruun's music.

Kashikura Takashi is a hell of a drummer. Fifteen years into the existence of toe, he's often been the focus of the instrumental Japanese post-rock band, and for good reason. Takashi is aerobic and musical all at once, capable of Questlove-level precision and soul one moment, and a cyclone of controlled chaos the next. But the thing that's always set toe apart from its technically minded peers is its ability to tell short, concise stories — ecstatic, noodly, complex pop songs that unfold in less than five minutes.

In Zhuangzi's Qi Wu Lun, the Daoist philosopher writes, "When the wind blows, every sound may be heard therein." Beijing's Chui Wan takes its name from that text — and similarly breathes in every sound to exhale a dazzling collage.

Daniel Bachman calls Durham, N.C., home now, but he grew up around the Rappahannock River in Fredericksburg. It's a quiet town in Northern Virginia that still has a pharmacy with cheap sandwiches and milkshakes; but, as Bachman pointed out to us, it has more tattoo parlors than music stores these days. That's not a judgment, just the way things are.

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