Owen Young, a mind steeped in the harmonies of law and fine art, unfurls “These Painted Flowers,” an EP blooming with the thorny beauty of the heart after the pandemic. It’s Americana, but not the porch swing kind—more like the kind where you stumble on a forgotten well, and peer in, seeing your reflection ripple back at you with new, confusing angles. These Painted Flowers...

Wolfgang Webb's "The Lost Boy" arrived not so much as a collection of tracks, but as a sonic correspondence from a place where streetlights hum with Kraftwerk’s ghost and the shadows dance to a trip-hop beat. This is music conceived in the wee small hours, carrying that particular clarity – or perhaps, exquisite exhaustion – of a world stripped bare by moonlight. His past...