IRON & WINE Light Verse (Sub Pop) — Sam Beam has been releasing music under the moniker Iron & Wine for more than two decades now, and it’s possible he’s never sounded as loose and free as he does on Light Verse. For his first solo, full-length studio effort in seven years, Beam assembled a crack crew of musicians and sets them to work on lean, smart songs that are guided by longstanding folk styles yet enlivened with a stealthy modern inventiveness. “Anyone’s Game” is flinty and playful as it joyfully pilfers rhythms from across the ocean to come across like the product of a less worldly Poi Dog Pondering, and “Taken By Surprise” has a quiet precision that recalls Lyle Lovett in his prime (“She would laugh, I would laugh/ Somehow that sound became a day/ Day turned into night and night to morning”). The album reaches its dazzling pinnacle on “All in Good Time” a magnificent duet with Fiona Apple that takes full advantage of the extra tang of weary, agitated truth she can bring to lyrics such as “All in good time, I drifted away/ I ran my mouth ’til I’d nothin’ to say/ You broke my heart, then I was okay/ All in good time.” “Sweet Talk” is a genial singalong for a more nurturing honky-tonk, and “Bag of Cats” has an endearingly odd musical underpinning that feels like Beam is trying to invent flamenco blues on the spot. Light Verse is consistently enveloping and thrilling in its restless invention. Go towards the Light with “You Never Know,” “Cutting It Close,” “Yellow Jacket,” and “Tears That Don’t Matter.”

CAMERA OBSCURA Look to the East, Look to the West (Merge) — Everyone would have understand had there never been another Camera Obscura album. The band, led by Tracyanne Campbell, was clipping along at the steady pace of most indie pop acts, dispenses another pack of gorgeous, glistening gems every few years or so. Two years after the release of their fifth album, Desire Lines, the band pulled out of a North American tour upon receiving the news that Carey Lander, their longtime keyboardist, had a relapse of osteosarcoma, an illness that claimed her life a few months later. Despondent over the loss of their friend, Camera Obscura were in no hurry to return to music making, at least until they were convinced to play as part what was undoubtedly a very twee concert cruise headlined by Belle and Sebastian. On their first album in more than a decade, Look to the East, Look to the West, Camera Obscura sounds like they’ve never been a way, a sensation undoubtedly enhanced by the return of producer Jari Haapalainen who oversaw the group’s standout releases Let’s Get Out of This Country and My Maudlin Career. From the top of the playlist, the elegant “Liberty Print,” Camera Obscura is in fine form, delivering pretty, pristine pop. There’s a sweet melancholy at play across the album (check “Only a Dream” for a prime example), which could be chalked up to feelings about their much-missed bandmate if that hadn’t always been a mode where Camera Obscura prospered. They do pay specific tribute to Lander with the casual, light-touch drama of “Sugar Drama”: “I liked who we were together/ I’m not sure who I’ll be apart/ I will love you forever and ever/ You didn’t take much, you never got to start.” As with all the best of Camera Obscura, the beauty of Look to the East, Look to the West can be overwhelming to anyone who gracefully gives in to it. In addition to those already mentioned, look to the following cuts: “Big Love,” “Denon, “Baby Huey (Hard Times),” and “Pop Goes Pop.”