Two excellent new electronic acts– New York duo MS MR and Scottish trio CHVRCHES– unite for the first time on “Hurricane.” On the light, breezy remix, CHVRCHES whip MS MR’s debut single into a delightful, danceable frenzy.  Courtesy of an infectious, synth-inflected chorus, this is one you won’t be getting out of your head anytime soon.

Immediately, these questions beg for answers as No One Dances Quite Like My Brothers strikes its opening chords. “Begin to Remember” is an aptly eerie introduction to the album, the murky, introspective overture that commences a tumultuous, twisted symphony of nine songs. The track’s hypnotic creaking eventually gives way to “The World Fell,” an unexpected dance number that is no less ominous in tone. Here, we swap Rønnenfelt’s angelic vocals for Rahbek’s dark baritone,  which moves boldly and gracefully among the shadows of the standout track. “No One Dances Quite Like My Brothers” reads like a manifesto, especially when a deadpan female voice (Pharmakon’s Margaret Chardiet) proclaims, “death is in the smallest things, even.” Fittingly, the title track is a beautiful tragedy, like a suicide note read aloud post-mortem.

No One Dances Quite Like My Brothers celebrates the dual nature of Vår as a band, and Rønnenfelt and Rahbek as artists. Somehow, the album’s industrial-goth-techno inspired tracks were cultivated over the course of only two weeks in the back of a Bushwick, Brooklyn record shop. Then again, it’s clear that Rønnenfelt and Rahbek work almost criminally well together, the yin to each other’s yang; While Rahbek is bold and masculine in recordings, the baby-faced Rønnenfelt displays a cool, subtle aggression that’s delicate as glass. Similarly, No One Dances Quite Like My Brothers presents hard, heavy subject matter approached in the gentlest manner possible.

Like a ghost, the record drifts between the walls of intense percussion of “Motionless Duties,” the spine-tingling death march of “Hair Like Feathers,” and the post-punk guitar accented techno of “Pictures of Today/Victorial.” The vibrating silence of “Boy” recalls shades of U.K. duo Raime, although it feels unfair comparing Vår to anyone or anything else. Album closer “Katla” emphatically shuts the book on No One Dances Quite Like My Brothers while wrapped tightly in droning synths.

Rønnenfelt and Rahbek, plus co-horts Kristian Emdal and Lukas Højland, have achieved something spectacular with No One Dances Quite Like My Brothers. Formerly, the band were known as War, before switching to the kinder, gentler Vår (which isn’t just “war” in Danish, as it appears, but actually means “spring.”) Clearly, the change has done them good. Throughout even its darkest, most macabre moments, there is a vulnerable romanticism associated with the music Vår make. The internet is littered with images of tender exchanges between Rønnenfelt and Rahbek, holding hands and even open-mouthed kissing.  Is No One Dances Quite Like My Brothers a real love story? Or is it meant to keep us guessing? Either way, it’s working, as the fragile young punks continue to craft sounds that are essentially shatter-proof.

4.5 / 5 bars

“Once” is one fifth of the title track from Laura Marling’s upcoming album, Once I Was an Eagle (which seems like it could be a weird Bill Callahan reference), and the song is the very slight and very singular acoustic meditation that its name implies. Marling’s voice buzzes with an adulthood that she is physically incapable of having experienced and grown tired of (the singer is only 23). The profundity of the line “I was a child once” – sung in a reflective whisper – seems like it should be lost on someone like Marling, but the emotion behind it feels authentic. Once I Was an Eagle is out on May 27th, and after the rambunctious “Master Hunter”, “Once” has quietly reset the score for this LP.

From the opening of this track, you think you’ve got Cheatahs pegged, they’re another fuzzy shoegaze revival band, then the rest of the group comes in, you immediately peg them as smooth and expansive dream poppers, and then the vocals come in and throw you off again.  The beautiful harmonies float through strange chord changes, sounding a bit like prog-rockers, King’s X.  And before you have a chance to really take in what you’ve heard, the song is over.  Give it a couple listens…  Apparently this is not even the final version of the song, their soundcloud says it is “an early version of a brand new song taken from our forthcoming debut album, which will be released by Wichita Recordings later this year.”  Well, look forward to that.

Retro-soul man Mayer Hawthorne is set to release a LP coming this July titled Where Does This Door Go? Here’s the first single from that album, “Her Favorite Song” featuring none other than Jessie Ware, who is one of my favorites from the UK right now. This soul/funk/bossa nova influenced track is quite smooth, as Hawthorne croons about a lonely lady making her escape with her ‘favorite song’. That lonely girl would be played by Ms. Ware, who says very little words on this track – but in this case, less is more! Have a listen.

Phew, looks like Fol Chen didn’t forget how to put on a horror show after all. The band thankfully released a remix of their uptempo (but still amazing) “Boys in the Woods” that is completely devoid of the original’s chippiness and instead channels some downright eerie vibes. The stretched track is a testament how sparseness paired with frightening noises can make for a good extended scare. They still got it!

Obvious Nirvana references aside – and believe me, there have been many – Baltimore’s Roomrunner make music that’s pretty original; nobody’s really doing the aggressive, fuzz-laden garage-grunge thing at the moment– at least, not in quite the same way. “Bait Car” is the opening track of the band’s forthcoming debut, Ideal Cities, out May 25. Nostalgic for the 90s? Even if you’re not, “Bait Car” sounds pretty promising either way.

Wild Nothing first grabbed our attention in 2009 with a cover of Kate Bush’s “Cloudbusting,” later releasing two critically acclaimed records in a row. Within the first seconds of Empty Estate opener “The Body in Rainfall,” though, it’s clear the band are headed in a new direction. The melodic, bold track is accented with crackling guitars and swaying synths, immediately sweeping us up into its anthemic arms. Similarly, many other songs on the seven-track Empty Estate EP are highlighted by an adventurous, driving synth riff. Breaking news: You can actually move to the new Wild Nothing release! Lace up those dancing shoes, kids.

That’s especially the case with the latter half of Empty Estate, like the lost 80s movie theme “Data World,” a track that sounds like a coming-of-age tale spun among a bed of dreamy synth clouds; the glorious middle section recalls the feeling of sunny skies re-opening after a stormy rain. “A Dancing Shell” is, like its name suggests, a straight-up dance number– and a pretty good one, at that. A few tracks prior lies the completely instrumental “On Guyot,” a murky, unknown trek through what could be the most experimental style Wild Nothing have ever adopted.

Contrary to its name, the Empty Estate EP isn’t devoid of much; rich, elegant, and light, it represents a bold new beginning for a great, (not so) old band. The EP’s send-off is the quiet, peaceful “Hachiko,” which leaves us dreaming of what’s to come. More so now than ever before, Wild Nothing have given us a lot to look forward to.

3.5 / 5 bars

“Swoon” starts with a maelstrom of digital dissonance.  What at first sounds like a careless upload of a terrible quality mp3 you realize is made up of finely crafted overdrive, chorus and tons of reverb.  It takes awhile for the vocals to come in but that makes their entrance all the more pleasing.  Whirr, formerly known as Whirl, have been touring extensively since last year’s full length, Pipe Dreams.  This cut, considerably darker than anything they’ve previously done, is from their upcoming EP, Around, out on Graveface July 9th.