Robin James Hurt’s “A Song, A Story Told” arrives with a sound you can almost run a thumb over, like worn corduroy. In an age of sterile, diamond-polished productions, this album is a defiantly handmade thing, tracked onto vintage cassette machines. The result is not a flaw, but an ingredient. A faint, persistent hiss breathes alongside the instruments, a ghost in the machine who...

Anthony Casuccio's "The Rockstar," is, well, not what you expect, especially if you were picturing spandex and teased hair. It's a raw, honest pour of musicality, almost like watching someone build a guitar from scratch right in front of you. He’s not pretending; this is what he does, he is music. That kind of dedication, you can feel it. It's like catching a stray...