Alex Neilson

SILKess Demon’s “Life is Art, Art is Life” marks a departure into the folk-horror briar — visions of Britain’s native music suffused with dread and obscure ritual. One of the quiet victories of self-released, self-recorded, neurotic, folk-inflected artistry that helps make Britain bearable again.

Myer U Clark’s “Tinderbox” is astonishingly accomplished for a debut, recalling the late-’60s Canterbury scene of Kevin Ayers, Robert Wyatt and Caravan. There’s a clarity of vision, matched by adroit musicianship and a singular conception of songwriting — a formidable first album on Broadside Hacks.

On “Ten Signs”, Dan Haywood and Harvey Lord trade dizzyingly poetic lines across an album whose rhythm is particularly striking — both languorous and uptight. Spring birds twitter through the recordings; a casual charm runs throughout. Their guitar work is soulful and unpredictable, with instrumental breaks laddering between sections in a way that would have M.C. Escher shaking his head in baffled admiration.

Lavinia Blackwall’s “The Making” is her most fully-formed conception yet — frank, dynamic songwriting turbo-charged by Marco Rea’s production. Former Trembling Bells bandmate Alex Neilson travels to her home in the hills of Molise to interview his oldest friend about melody-first writing, escaping mediocre situations, and finding a sense of freedom in Italy and at her off-grid cabin in Carbeth.

Emmett Kelly, Stephen Malkmus, Matt Sweeney and Jim White have all done time in supergroups before. Could they handle it on a cold Tuesday night on a Bluetooth stereo in Glasgow? Alex Neilson gives an emphatic and unequivocal yes. Released in late 2024, “The Hard Quartet” carries all the messy, confounding joy of Dirty Three and Pavement, and makes you remember what you love about music.