Jerry Paper, “Destroy” (Bayonet). Distressingly calm and cool. Really cool, in fact. After about a minute, flips from a slow pop groove into silly synth disco beats and back again and back again. The title is said matter-of-factly: “destroy, destroy, destroy.” I feel like I’ve just read a John Cheever short story. “Destroy” is a come-on for Jerry Paper’s third album, out at the end of March.

Chela, “Handful of Gold” (Chrome Sparks Remix).” Busy, layered, dancy pop mishmash. Reminds me of noble experiments like Book of Love back in the ‘80s.

I’m a sucker for stories of songs with the word Quetzalcoatl in them. Not only has Liturgy created such a song, this “Transcendental Black Metal” band is the ideal outfit to concoct such a ditty. Liturgy does a singular sort of Gothic church music, respecting sacred compositional structures and noting the connections between medieval plainsong, classical new-music, drum-n-bass, Beatles and layered-on production techniques. The results are enthralling, and do to me what Monteverdi and Byrd can do to me, but using tools and references from this century. It’s a higher calling, just as Quetzocoatl is a flying feathered serpent worshipped by Aztecs.

The song’s a teaser for the upcoming (third) Liturgy album The Ark Work, coming out on the Thrill Jockey label March 24.

The Black Ryder, “Seventh Moon.” A five-and-a-half minute song that I couldn’t handle for even a minute. Too dreamy for its own good. It’s apparently made to be listened to while on a drug that I’m not even aware of.

Jessi Teich, Twisted Soul. Expected that the “Cry Me a River” here would be the Julie London standard, but it’s the Justin Timberlake song by that name. It’s followed, naturally, but Teich singing (in “Someday”) that she’s made a deal with the devil. This is better-than-average smooth jazz, more sweet than sultry but full of intriguing mood swings. The title song is twisted indeed, as if “Fever,” jump-rope rhymes, cheesy disco rhythms and mainstream ‘50s club jazz were all thrown in a cauldron. Stranger still is “Diggin’ a Ditch,” a bluesy rap with calypso and David Lynchian moments.

Bonnie “Prince” Billy makes an appearance on the eight-song alt-folk album Where In Our Woods by Elephant Michah. It’s an appealing thump-and-strum sound, laid-back but not calm. “Rare Beliefs”s starts with a quiet rumble and stays still, but not without menace. “Demise of the Bible Birds” may be the quickest and most sprightly of the eight songs, but even it has that drag-leg Tom Waits feel beneath its peppy instrumental sections and higher-register vocals. There’s a sad wail beneath this whole album that’s the very definition of “haunting.”

The video for Generationals’ “Reviver” takes an interest in quaint old county-fair motocross races. The band has a vaguely ‘70s vibe itself—upbeat pop that you might play at the school dance. “Reviver” is on the new Generationals album Alix.

Propulsive yet reflective is a neat trick, but “We’ve Come So Far” by A Place to Bury Strangers really stops to smell the neuroses. It’s a hasty, headlong, lyric, but controlled and focus within all that rhythm and noise, forming supernaturally into rough harmony-filled choruses. Five minutes long but feels like two.

Moon King, a Toronto two-piece, foreshadow the release of their new album Secret Life (on Last Gang Records) with the dreamy yet driven “Roswell.” The long, spacious, scene-setting intro reminds me a lot of the old New Wave hit “Airport” by The Motors. When the vocals arrive, they’re fuzzy and ethereal. You can hear the track at Stereogum
http://www.stereogum.com/1728549/moon-king-roswell-stereogum-premiere/mp3s/

Painted Zero’s “Jaime” is a four-chord garage-rock run through the modern filter of contemporary Brooklyn indie rock. It sounds modern-quirky, with effects and crowd noises and layered guitar noises and the bourgeois-bratty vocals of Katie Lau, but it never loses that diehard ingratiating garage beat. Precious yet provocative. “Jaime” has been out for six months now as part of Painted Zero’s Svalbard EP, on the Black Bell label.