Silja Rós sends us “Letters from my past,” and it’s as if one has been handed a velvet pouch of smoothed sea glass, each piece a shard of memory polished by time. Listening feels like sorting through them, the Icelandic musician’s neo-soul and pop songwriting unfurling narratives from what must be deeply personal old diaries. There’s an intimacy here akin to deciphering faded ink...

A broken teacup, stained with Earl Grey, hums with the same quiet ache as "Jeg Glemmer Dig Aldrig." Tomas Raae and the ethereal voice of Eline Hellerud Åsbakk craft something fragile, like frost on a window pane – beautiful and inherently ephemeral. It’s a love song, maybe, or a lament. It’s hard to pin down the heart of it exactly, which, I suppose, is...