**The American desert has always been fertile ground for the imagination — vast, indifferent, ancient. Jana Pochop has made it her instrument.** Released on the kind of date that feels almost cosmically deliberate — the 25th of March, the very cusp of spring — *Powerlines* is the Albuquerque singer-songwriter's most audacious statement yet, a seven-track record that collapses the distance between place and person, between landscape and lyric, until the two become indistinguishable. This is music that smells of red earth and cold desert night.

Ed Silva has never made music for you. He has made it, apparently, for the castaways — the bruised, the misfits, those who arrive late to every party and leave early. With *Patterns*, the latest dispatch from his long-running project Cries of Redemption, he makes a record that sounds precisely like that constituency feels: half-formed memories alchemised into something rawer and more alive than polished intention ever manages.

Nick Page — Count Dubulah to those who knew his work through Transglobal Underground and a sprawling catalogue of over 200 recordings — died in May 2021 with unfinished business. Not the anxious, unresolved kind: the joyful, purposeful kind. He was, by all accounts, always making music right up until the end, and *Dub Will Keep Us Together*, completed posthumously by his life partner Cristina Morán (Dubulette) and collaborator Toby Mills, carries none of the valedictory gloom one might expect from an album conceived under such circumstances. It sounds, rather defiantly, like a party to which death was not invited.

There is a particular kind of longing that has no clean translation in English. The Portuguese have *saudade*. The Welsh have *hiraeth*. Odd Little Thrills — a Prague-based dreampop duo whose members hail from Istanbul and Arkansas — seem to have built a whole sonic architecture around exactly that feeling, a feeling the rest of us have been fumbling to name for years. On *There Was, There Wasn't*, their quietly stunning debut EP, they don't bother naming it. They simply play it back to you, slow and close, like a home video you don't remember making.