BEACH HOUSE 7 (Sub Pop) The Baltimore duo Beach House has plumbed a singular aesthetic so deeply that each of their albums sounds fairly similar — they never stray too far from ethereal, dreamy pop music set to rich, gauzy synthesizers and relaxed tempos — yet each also embodies an entirely different environment. They’re different planets in the same solar system. “Dark Spring” opens this, their seventh album, with another new texture: Waves of electric guitar that make the group sound like shoegaze bands such as My Bloody Valentine. “Pay No Mind” transforms that guitar into a slow buzz that vibrates alongside reverberating drums, showing the band’s Cocteau Twins influence more plainly than usual. Even songs that tread familiar turf — such as “Lemon Glow,” with its waves of keyboards and metronomic click of a beat — betray new tricks that shine through headphones. On this cut, they foreground Victoria Legrand’s sultry vocals and multitrack her voice so it chases itself through the melody. As with most Beach House music, the compositions organically grow outward, like ice fractals on the water’s surface. Never is that feeling more evocative than on “Black Car,” a song that twinkles brightly with electronic blips and gradually expands. Beach House’s 7is the most aggressive album (relative to their catalogue, anyway) and one made for headphones, rich with minor details that slowly emerge from the mix like a sailboat in a “magic eye” poster. — Robert Ker

ROSWELL RUDD Embrace (RareNoise Records) Trombonist Roswell Rudd, who died last December — a month after the release of this, his final album — chose to work this time in the context of a drumless quartet. This was sometimes a preference when he worked with vocalists like Sheila Jordan, Bob Dorough, and now Fay Victor, because he liked being able to hear the harmonics of the singer without drums and cymbals. This set of mostly mid-tempo arrangements of standards begins with “Something to Live For.” Lafayette Harris opens with peaceful piano chords and a slight sense of suspense. He is joined by double-bassist Ken Filiano, then Rudd comes in with his signature extravagantly fat-toned trombone; he plays here with a romantic edge and also offers some beautiful slide-slurs and vibratos. On the next tune, “Goodbye Pork Pie Hat,” Victor provides a long scat introduction. On “Can’t We Be Friends,” Rudd’s deceptively languid trombone solo, muted and full of bawdy wah-wahs, is followed by a fleet, inventive piano part. “Lafayette Harris is one of the best accompanists that I ever played with,” the leader said. “Boy, is he there! He’s not only ahead of the music, he’s in the moment and behind it all at the same time.” Filiano shows his stuff with a wonderful arco intro on “Too Late Now.” The swinging “I Look in the Mirror,” written by Rudd’s partner, Verna Gillis, is a showcase for all. “House of the Rising Sun,” “I Look in the Mirror,” and “Pannonica” complete this great disc. — Paul Weideman