New York City’s Apache Beat make music as difficult to classify as it is easy to enjoy, rich with layered instrumentation and tonal changes. They pull off the artsy skronk and the soaring melody with equal facility; both approaches are in evidence on “Another Day,” the final track from the band’s upcoming debut, Last Chants (slated for an October 5th release by Beverly Martel). Last Chants features help from members of fellow Big Apple acts including The Rapture and The Yeah Yeah Yeahs–further evidence of how Apache Beat has very quickly won over hometown hearts.

It would be suspect not to invoke Talking Heads when discussing “Another Day,” which begins with the sort of plaintive guitar noodling the post-punk act perfected on Speaking in Tongues. Crackly synthesizers hum discreetly in the background as percussive elements fill in the gaps. Before long, the song has moved someplace entirely different, powered by alternating streams of overdriven, legato guitar notes and frenetic soloing.

There are moments when Apache Beat allows the tension to slacken on “Another Day,” but these brief respites only serve to heighten the intensity of the larger arc. This approach keeps things interesting listen after listen and makes “Another Day” a lot of fun to boot. Look out for big things from Apache Beat as 2010′s release calendar begins to draw to a close.

The indie music world knows no shortage of quirky, off-kilter frontmen (Silver Jews, Tindersticks, and Absentee immediately leap to mind), but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for Micah Middaugh and his compatriots in Breathe Owl Breathe. Whether it’s through his reserved, nonchalant delivery, his penchant for crafting arresting lyrical imagery, or his talent for winding his musical compositions into surprising, twisting ribbons, Middaugh has no difficulty displaying his chops as a singular artistic voice.

The trio already has four LPs and an EP to their name; come September 28th they will add to the tally with their new LP, Magic Central, courtesy of Hometapes. The album’s titular subject is the rural Michigan cabin the three share throughout the year and was the incubator for its dozen tracks, which were conceived and eventually recorded at Magic Central. As a refuge from outside influences and other distractions, it seems to have provided Breathe Owl Breathe with the space to fully indulge their creative whims, as is evident on the new record’s lead track, “Own Stunts.”

There are so many evocative lines throughout “Own Stunts” it is a challenging task to single favorites out for special consideration, but I’m a fan of simple yet compelling phrases such as “I’m walking down the path / Look down, there’s a welcome mat over a trap door / What’s on the other side? / The spirit world” and “Mustache covers my lower lip / No one can tell that I’m trembling.” Middaugh’s lyrics feel as though they have been excerpted from some contemporary piece of poetry while remaining immediate and relatable–no small feat.

Better yet, his words form the perfect accompaniment to the musical backdrop, which is garlanded with whimsically arranged vocal harmonies and wreaths of piano. “Own Stunts” takes confident, leisurely strides through a garden filled with unexpected flora–a tempo change here, a false ending there, a suddenly blooming change of mood somewhere else. It is a song made gorgeous by what is, for lack of a better term, its own weirdness, that unique personality which makes Breathe Owl Breathe feel sui generis amid a world of innovators and trail blazers.

Western musical styles have always held the drone at arm’s length. The musical traditions of other cultures–from India to the Middle East to Siberia to Australia–have historically embraced the inherent hypnotic tug of sustained tones, undertones, and overtones slipping and sliding against each other. However, aside from the Scots and their bagpipes, Europeans haven’t been too terribly keen on the drone. It’s generally been relegated to the avant-garde in Western culture, with The Beatles, The Velvet Underground and the shoegaze bands championing it in pop music (but those people have always been considered a bit weird anyway).

So it’s something of a surprise to hear a Brooklyn folkie like Sharon Van Etten building a song atop a drone that could have come straight off a vintage Tony Conrad album. Instead, it’s lifted from her confidently titled new record, Epic, due out October 5th on Ba Da Bing. “Love More” is a mesmerizing thing, a slow, steady, sturdy bedrock upon which other instruments come and go until Etten’s vocals arrive, followed by the guitars and percussion, bringing the elements more commonly associated with Brooklyn folkies.

It’s that unyielding drone in the background that gives the spare instrumentation of the rest of the song feel epic–the muted guitars, Etten’s multi-tracked vocals, and the deliberate drumbeats. As they swell together during the finale of the song, they sell the hard-won lessons of a failed relationship just as effectively with pure sound as the lyrics do with words.

It’s been twenty-two years since the Cowboy Junkies first turned heads by mixing roots music with The Velvets’ ambience. It’s good to hear someone like Sharon Van Etten demonstrate that the combination is still far from played out.

We’ve all done it: you’re in the shower, just finished with scrubbing yourself clean, and right before you turn the water flow off you swing the temperature all the way to the cold side. When the water hits, icy and penetrating, it’s a refreshing burst, a thrilling change.

That’s how this track from twenty-one year old Californian Will Wiesenfeld makes me feel–both stimulated and soothed. Under the Baths banner, Wiesenfeld makes bewildering beats and skewed, perplexing pop on his debut, Cerulean (released in June by anticon.). Truth be told, it isn’t his debut per se–he has a shocking four records to his credit under the moniker of [Post-Foetus]–but it is a new identity for the multi-instrumentalist.

However, what really makes this song shine is the remarkable remix work executed by (previously featured act) The One AM Radio. I’m not sure whether The Los Feliz Ladies Choir is a real thing or whether it’s just a bunch of The One AM Radio’s gal pals, but the truth is I don’t care. Their vocal performance on the reworking is both layered and ethereal, lending a sun-streaked glow to the proceedings. Musically, the opening moments are reminiscent of Ulrich Schnauss’ more driving post-shoegazer soundscapes, but that feeling soon gives way to a steady progression of other textures, samples, and melodies.

As with a great film that reveals further nuances with each subsequent viewing, the “Hall” remix continues to surrender small treasures after extensive repeat listens. From its warped opening sample of a tick-tocking clock to the closing collective note sung by the Choir, these two acts have conspired to create a piece of music so bewitching that your Repeat button may just press itself.