This coming Tuesday, Cincinnati indie rock act Enlou will release their third EP, Body of Friends, Body of Water, on Lujo Records. With this new effort, the quintet takes a serious stab at sneaking their way into the genre’s premier echelon of performers with a five track set that hints at the atmospheric flourishes of Band of Horses’ work, the west coast guitar vibe espoused by Surfer Blood, and a Shinsian, Grizzly Bearish facility with melodic hooks.

On the Body of Friends EP, Enlou rounds out their standard instrumentation with touches of sampled sounds and a bit of vibraphone, extending their sonic landscapes beyond the immediacy of their electric guitars. On “Amphibian,” the EP’s lead track, you can hear this airiness in its opening moments. For nearly half a minute, a spectral near silence hangs in the air like a fog before the first verse comes crashing in.

The quiet tease is worth the payoff, however, as the band expertly pairs charging rhythms with ringing guitars. Above it all are James Bishop’s vocals, which are wide ranging in tone and emotional without being trite or overwrought. There is a splendid sentimentality to “Amphibian,” which fluidly winds its way through distinctive moods before its crisp, satisfying closing.

As half of Miami post-post-punk act Awesome New Republic, John Hancock has been a driving force behind what has been South Florida’s most interesting musical act for the past several years. In the winter of 2008, Hancock–who lives in the Little Haiti recording studio where he serves as a night watchman–decided to put some tracks to tape in a solo departure from ANR. Those songs have now been released as Antenna Death, an eleven track limited edition vinyl LP pressed by the St. Ives Vinyl Club. In keeping with the St. Ives aesthetic, each copy of Antenna Death is manufactured on recycled vinyl and features handmade sleeve art.

“Not Scared At All” is the fourth song on Side A–a hallucinogenic, effervescent, two and a half minute take. It boasts a sound which can be viewed as a weirder take on Talking Heads’ white guy voodoo or a less antagonistic read of Animal Collective’s trippy fireworks. The song is underpinned by a syncopated, processed drum track and a gently buoyant bass melody. Superimposed on this foundation are occasional synthesizer yelps, which add texture to the verses and a touch more tunefulness to the choruses. Front and center are Hancock’s vocals, stronger here than on his work with ANR and sporadically multi-tracked to great effect. His delivery is relatively straightforward; playing things straight as a singer helps give “Not Scared At All” a surprising approachability which, coupled with the short track length, turns an oddly flavored tune into one which may be savored repeatedly.

Whether she’s going by the moniker Sea of Bees, the alias Julie Ann Bee, or just Jules, one thing is certain: Julie Baenzinger is ready to “bee” scene and “bee” heard. The woman behind the Sacramento-based outfit is obviously fond of wordplay and has more names than she does albums. Fortunately, she’s also got the voice to match her audacious persona.

The dramatic and expansive “Marmalade” will appeal to fans of Sons and Daughters, P.J. Harvey, and Cat Power. Multiple melodic elements crystallize around the depth of Baenzinger’s burgundy voice. Guitar chords ring out while she sings, “I can’t hear my mockingbird,” but the bird and bee references don’t stop there. Crossbill Records released Sea of Bees’ debut full-length, Songs for the Ravens, on June 1st.

Though the melody is dark and steeped in minor keys, the incessant rhythm never allows the listener to wallow. As Baenzinger harmonizes with herself, building a towering vocal structure before twangy guitar razes the layers of sound. “Marmalade” works its magic, leaving listeners in a better state than it found them.

One thing that’s certain about Los Angeles combo Shadow Shadow Shade is that they’re unafraid of the grand gesture: their seven member lineup contains not only two drummers but a bona fide opera singer. They changed their name from Afternoons to avoid confusion with a similarly named Welsh outfit, but one suspects they would have changed their name anyway. A fairly prosaic name like Afternoons isn’t really equal to the task of defining what the band is up to.

On their musical calling card “Is This a Tempest in the Shape of a Bell,” Shadow Shadow Shade aren’t content to simply record a pop song. No, the thing seems to consist of movements, kicking off with a bit of random noise that seems to be Gregorian chants played backwards before blasting off into a hooky bit of pop business sounding a lot like ELO playing The Stooges. Over the next several minutes there’s an orchestral pomp-rock bridge that bleeds into a Bunnymen style section and then some more hooky pop business before blasting into a by-then inevitable swelling coda complete with soaring wordless vocal harmonies.

By all rights it should be a complete mess and maybe it is, but it succeeds in its sheer nerviness anyway. If a band is going to overreach on such a grandiose scale, they’d best have the chops to make it work. On the evidence presented here, Shadow Shadow Shade would seem to have those chops. Hopefully their promised full-length album (slated for a late summer release date still TBD) will show that they’re able to stretch them out over the long haul.