GISKE’s "The Sound of Birdsong" doesn’t so much begin as it seeps into the room, like the pale, perpetual twilight of a Norwegian summer night where sleep feels like a theoretical concept. This is a song for the space between the last page of a book and turning off the light; a four-minute float in that strange, conscious stillness when the world is quiet...

There is a specific kind of quiet you find in the Midwest, and listening to Derby Hill and his self-titled release, "Derby Hill", feels like stumbling into that quiet after a long, noisy shift. It’s not the silence of emptiness; it’s the silence of after. After the argument, after the paycheck clears, after the sun goes down over the Detroit skyline or a Chicago...