[ FOLK/POP ]

At eight songs and 32 minutes, Marissa Nadler’s The Sister (Box of Cedar) is a younger sibling of sorts to the self-titled album she released last June. And as with flesh-and-blood sisters born a year apart, you’ll notice both an uncanny resemblance and willful contradictions. If you’re already fond of Nadler’s mystic songcraft, you’ll make fast friends with gorgeous, ghostly songs like “Christine.” If you’re less attached to her gentle strumming, “Love Again, There Is a Fire” will woo you with its spooky, spare piano. Nadler plays Johnny Brenda’s on Wednesday (June 13, johnnybrendas.com). —M.J. Fine

[SOUL]

A duly bold (or, certainly, unorthodox) comeback project, The Bravest Man in the Universe (XL) finds unsung soul titan Bobby Womack joining forces with Richard Russell and Damon Albarn to strike a genially eclectic old-meets-new-school alchemy, wherein the 68-year-old pits his grizzled, gospel-steeped pipes in duet with Lana Del Rey and Malian musician Fatoumata Diawara (and, er, MacTalk) and paraphrases “Walk On By” and “Higher and Higher” atop greasy electronic and hip-hop beats. —K. Ross Hoffman

[DVD/REISSUE]

Restored by hand to all its mustard-colored glory, Yellow Submarine sails back into print on a new Blu-ray and DVD. Although it was built around the Beatles’ music, the animated adventure had little to do with the Fab Four. But hearing the songs in souped-up surround sound is one of the new edition’s main attractions. With its dystopian cut-and-paste rendition of industrial Liverpool, the film isn’t straight-up children’s fare, but it’s an ideal gateway for young ones, and a great excuse for grownups to simply sit and listen a while. —Sam Adams

[POP]

Four years on from her debut, Australia’s Pip Brown — alias Ladyhawke — has, perhaps keeping up with the slowly turning times, toned down her blatant ’80s worship, instead infusing the spiky new wave of Anxiety (Modular) with a crunch and snarl that owes something to the (recently resurgent) ’90s likes of Garbage, Pulp and Elastica, plus a generous side-helping of seedy garage-punk organ. Either way, it’s a total thrill-ride of a record, a lean 36 minutes of all-killer pop — even the ballad kinda kicks — that starts strong and never really lets up, even when the lyrics are sort of a downer. —K. Ross Hoffman