By now, you’ve had some time to absorb the glory of Fleet Foxes second album, Helplessness Blues, and are probably more than ready to hear how the band handles its grandeur live. Well, our friends at NPR Music have just the thing — tonight at 9:30 pm EST, they’ll be broadcasting a live stream of the group’s show from the Stubb’s in Austin. If you want to recreate the experience fully, sit outside, grab a barbecue sandwich and an ice cold Tecate, close your eyes and soak in the Pecknold.

Our good friends and Selects alum Breathe Owl Breathe have a new album coming out this spring, and this trailer is pretty much all we need to see to get excited for it. We have no idea where this was shot, but Micah’s frozen beard is something to behold.

Anyone who is Facebook friends with me already got this impassioned alert, but I’m telling you, if Strand of Oaks is not the Bon Iver of 2010, I will be wreaking some indie rock havoc.

On record, Tim Showalter’s songs are plaintive and folky, constructed from sturdy acoustic strumming, second-cousins to, say M. Ward. Live, though, Showalter moves into the mystic. Last night at New York’s Living Room, he constructed a glimmering latticework of electric guitar — reverb-drenched, snowflake-like patterns, one note melting into the next. It was breathtaking — “Sister Evangeline” became a weird winter hymnal and “Lawns Breed Songs” turned hushed and transcendent. And a new song — which I think is about John Belushi — became dark and distinctly unsettling in its final stanza.

Even more remarkable is Showalter’s voice. On record he’s hushed and introspective, but live it is a beacon, a big, potent, bell-clear tone — a big, immovable object at the center of that mirage-like guitar.

But what makes Strand of Oaks so remarkable is Showalter’s lyrical acuity. He constructs phrases that construe direct meaning without even sinking into bland literalism. One new song actually choked me up, so dead-on was Showalter’s writing.

As always in indie rock, buzz is as much about timing and placement as it is about quality of work. Showalter told me his new record is moving away from his debut’s folky ruminations. If it sounds anything like the strange spells he cast last night — think the best parts of Frederik and Benoit Pioulard — his ascent should be a speedy one.

So… any good new releases today?

Obviously, today is Sony day, which sees a slew of popular — and not-so-popular — titles hit the site. There is a kind of giddy rush that comes from seeing, say, Bitches Brew or the first Stone Roses record turn up, and I’m already figuring my personal Save for Later list is going to grow exponentially in the days to come.

I don’t want to dwell too long on specific titles. Instead, I thought I’d point out a few of the broader features we assigned as a part of this label rollout.

Our coverage of the Sony catalog breaks out a couple of different ways. First, there’s our Six Degrees series, which explores the often unlikely connections between popular records and indie favorites.

The first batch of eMusic Six Degrees includes:

The Clash, London Calling
Sly & the Family Stone, There’s a Riot Goin’ On
Bruce Springsteen, Nebraska
Glenn Gould, The Goldberg Variations
Arcade Fire, Funeral
Carole King, Tapestry
Jeff Buckley, Grace
Miles Davis, Nefertiti
Kings of Leon, Aha Shake Heartbreak
Dolly Parton, Coat of Many Colors
Spoon, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
Nas, Illmatic
Panda Bear, Person Pitch
Michael Jackson, Off the Wall

We’ve also launched a series called eMusic Icons — guided, curated discographies of musical giants. On this tip, I have to make special mention of Douglas Wolk’s exhaustive, unblinking look at the career of Bob Dylan. Douglas reviewed every Bob Dylan album — the good, the bad and the embarrassing — and broke the catalog out into a guide sure to be valuable to Dylan newcomers and long-timers alike.

Kevin Whitehead gives similar insight to the Miles Davis catalog — records I, for one, have long wanted to check out but have been stymied on where to start. In the coming weeks, you’ll be seeing Icon hubs from longtime favorites like Pavement and the Pixies. Our Icon series right now is as follows:

Bob Dylan
The Clash
Miles Davis
Leonard Cohen
Leonard Bernstein
A Tribe Called Quest
Bruce Springsteen
Michael Jackson
Simon & Garfunkel
Elvis Presley
Harry Nilsson

Last year we fell hard for Icelandic folk singer Ólöf Arnalds — so hard, in fact, that her masterful debut Við og við landed in our top records of the year (although, to be fair, the weird kinship with Iceland we’ve managed to cultivate over the last few years probably didn’t hurt).

So, you know, we lost our minds with excitement when Stereogum debuted a new track from Ólöf’s upcoming album (we even got over the fact that she didn’t give it to us first!) An initial listen reveals that this could be a Great Leap Forward on par with the last Sprengjuhöllin record. Children’s choirs, loop-de-loop refrains — we can’t wait to hear more.

He makes it soooooo easy. When someone is this good at this many things — and things so wide-ranging in scope, you can’t help but be shocked in spite of yourself — it’s damn near impossible not to tumble down the rabbit hole.

The Arthur Russell story is well-chronicled amongst music obsessives, the gist being: quiet Iowan cellist moves to New York, takes the downtown scene by storm with his eccentric, virtuosic take on everything from avant-classical to leftfield disco to folk to no-wave. He works occasionally behind-the-scenes (endlessly tweaking and twiddling longform dance singles under pseudonyms like Loose Joints and Indian Ocean) and often front-and-center (most affectingly on the World of Echo tapes, which are stark: just Russell’s cello and vocals, heavily processed).

It’s a compelling body of work, even just to an appreciator of things; even viewed through the myriad non-musical prisms Russell touched: art, theater, experimental culture. The music, though, more than impressing people (which it tends to do no matter what), has the capacity to be loved by almost everyone. Not an easy task for an experimental composer at heart.

Some key, errr… keys to Arthur Russell accesibility:

Breadth: If you don’t love the wonky, wobbly, crisp disco of 24-24 Music or “Is It All Over My Face?“, chances are you will love the sometimes-hushed, sometimes-rollicking country-folk of Love is Overtaking Me. If not, then surely a record of mysterious and toweringly beautiful just-cello-and-vocals. Or the sample-heavy, weird rock-not-rock of Calling Out of Context. You see where I’m goin’ with this.

Tone: This stuff, as off-kilter as it can seem at times, still sounds great to this day. I really think Russell’s vocals are an overlooked element of his appeal/greatness. He has this incredible timbre (kind of shooting in the dark here in the land of technical-ness) — like he’s somehow singing from the top of his mouth. It’s got a sticky, resonant, very expressive and, dare I say… emotional tone.

Singularness: Clunky, I know. But seriously, even the diggin-est of all diggers would be hard pressed to find anyone who does it quite like Arthur. It’s the amalgamation of source material, songwriting quirk, odd instrumentation and plain old obsessive tinkering: 1,000,000 monkeys working 1,000,000 years couldn’t…

Of course there’s the myth (new/newly unearthed material is regularly being compiled these days), but really at the heart of it: this is wholly unique, wholly engaging, inspired and inspiring music. As for where to start… if you ask me, anywhere, really:

Arthur Russell on eMusic
Dinosaur L on eMusic

Daily “I-don’t-know-nearly-enough-about-music-or-life” confession: I’ve spent no time with the music of Willie Nelson. Apart from a dim knowledge of the “classic status” of the album Red-Headed Stranger and the vague belief that the dude MUST have written a string of unimpeachable classics in his life or I wouldn’t see him all over award shows all the damn time, I have next to no personal familiarity with the man’s music. So when I saw that Phosphorescent, whose 2007 album of drug-fogged campfire hymns Pride remains an enduring favorite of mine, was releasing an album of Willie Nelson covers, I wasn’t exactly sure what I would think.

I was TOTALLY unprepared, though, for the lonely, lingering ache of this record. Honestly, and I’m sure I’m the only one in this particular crowd who was unaware of this, but I had just NO idea that even a portion of Willie’s catalogue was this deeply melancholy. It’s an out-of-the-pores kind of sadness, of the unglamorous, nagging, and all-too-relatable variety. I know that Willie had an upbeat, goofy-cornpone side, but I was hugely and criminally ignorant that the man wrote anything as devastating as “The Last Thing I Needed (First Thing Morning).” I’m sure some of this has to do with the tremulous quaver in Matthew Houck’s open, yearning tenor, but the way he just skirts sounding piteous when he sings “then I laid down beside you/cuz I wanted your lovin/cuz your love makes my life complete,” the hint of a tremble in his voice, the abject vulnerability, is one of the most “oh-shit-I-just-caught-a-lump-in-my-throat-what-the-fuck’s-going-on” moments I’ve had with a song in awhile.

The spidery fragility of Houck’s singing voice, and the drowsy feel the band has for a pulse, does a lot to set this tone. At this point, I think Phosphorescent are hiding in plain sight for me: I reach for them time and again, almost reflexively. Music nerds are often likely to (or maybe this is just me?) name as their favorite band the one they find their thoughts most consumed by when they are not listening: taken to an extreme, this can lead to records in the critical canon that almost no one has made it through (everyone will cite a different record, but my two personal examples of this are Trout Mask Replica and Zen Arcade). By contrast, I never really find myself “thinking” about Phosphorescent: they don’t really demand to be puzzled over, just enjoyed. I just kinda love them. Anyone else love them as well?

P.S. All of his columns are of course required reading, but I particularly enjoyed Lenny Kaye’s recent take on Phosphorescent, along with other newer country-influenced acts like Laura Cantrell and Jason Isbell.

P.P.S. Here’s the record.

In a few weeks, eMusic will herald the arrival of a very special record — A Society in Which No Tear is Shed is Inconceivably Medicore by Yonlu. A collection of spare, brittle, lo-fi folk songs, Society is what Caetano Veloso might sound like if he collaborated with Lou Barlow. Most of the songs sound like they were recorded on a crumbling 4-track, and some of them are interrupted by strange bursts of static and sound. Yonlu’s voice is tiny and trembling, possessing all the fragility of prime Elliott Smith. Yonlu would post these songs to various internet forums, gradually gaining a small but appreciative following.

All of this came to an abrupt halt in July of 2006, when Yonlu chose to end his life. In his suicide note, he encouraged his parents to listen to his music whenever they missed him, his songs a testament to his painfully short life. His father took the recordings to the Luaka Bop label, who compiled the best of Yonlu’s songs to create the collection that will be released in a few weeks.

Pop music has a way of allowing backstories like this to eclipse the music in question, but in Yonlu’s case, that would be cruel and unjust. The music on Society is arresting and beautiful, a testament to a young, creative mind. You can listen to a bulk of the record here, and get a glimpse into Yonlu’s sweet, humble genius.

Big day at eMusic, as classic albums from the Reverend Al Green hit the site. Do I even need to say how timeless and essential these are? Most people will go for the Greatest Hits, and I get that, but the full albums here are just as rich and rewarding.

We’ve assembled all of Al’s albums, curated by Green aficionado Andy Beta, into a hub here. If you ask me, though, your first stops should be — in order! — The Belle Album, then I’m Still in Love With You, then Let’s Stay Together. Then go hog wild on the rest.

And if classic soul is not to your taste (and I’m working hard to suspend judgment if that is the case), may we humbly recommend the following:

Maria Taylor, Ladyluck: Half of Azure Ray returns with a warm and stirring record of folk-pop. I love this record, honestly and truly. The songs practically gleam and the finale, “Cartoons and Forever Plans,” is a heartwarmer if ever I’ve heard one. Maybe too mainstream for some tastes, but this is one of my early faves of 09. But, then again, I’m kind of a wuss.

Gomez, A New Tide. Hey! It’s Gomez! eMusic’s Wayne Robins sez:

Eleven years since winning Britain’s prestigious Mercury Awards for their debut album Bring It On, Gomez surprises by not being surprising — and that’s a beautiful thing. The original quintet is still together (though they have dispersed from their spawning ground, a coastal town near Liverpool), still building songs that sound improvised until a sense of permanence is attained.

Great Lake Swimmers, Lost Channels: New one from Great Lake Swimmers, a band I do not know much about, but that I know people like. Anyone wanna jump in in the comments?

If you paid attention to the commercials during the Super Bowl yesterday (great game!) you may have noticed a familiar-sounding acoustic chant number in the background of a John Turturro-starring Heineken spot. Turns out to be none other than “Higher Than the End,” from 17 Dots fave Twi the Humble Feather! A shocking turn to say the least. I can’t recommend Music for Spaceships and Forests enough — I hope the guys made a sweet chunk from the ad. Something tells me “semi-spiritual avant-folk” might not quite pay New York City rent these days.