This fourth deluxe hardcover (issues #37-48) of Y: The Last Man begins with the journey Yorick Brown’s male Capuchin monkey Ampersand took since the last collection (issues #24-36) of the Eisner Award-winning series. The little guy’s genes may prove to be the solution to ending the worldwide gendercide, and much of the drama centers on ensuring his safety. Book Three saw writer Brian K. Vaughan (Lost, Ex Machina, Runaways) hitting a few narrative speed bumps and cul de sacs, but here he starts stepping on the gas.

Even in Mighty’s quieter moments, something gloriously untamed lurks just under the surface. Sure Lord Huron traffics in the same multi-part harmonies, tribal beats, and devil-may-care charm that transformed the careers of Grizzly Bear and Local Natives into indie gold. But breaking it down to individual elements only tells part of the story.

World Psychedelic Funk Classics put out its first release in 2009 under the title Psych Funk 101. An introductory study of the “golden years” of psychedelic funk music, the compilation brought together essential tracks of the genre from around the globe. Their third course in fuzz guitars and funk rhythm (following their Brazilian fuzz guitar comp) focuses on India, summarized by the subtitle of the record: Seminar: Aesthetic Expressions of Psychedelic Funk Music in India 1970-1983.

“Norway…it’s beautiful,” says Gylve “Fenriz” Nagell of Darkthrone, the first of Norway’s black metal bands. “It’s like New Zealand, only just grimmer.” That description seems increasingly more pregnant with meaning as details unfold in the documentary Until the Light Takes Us.

As opening comedian Tig Notaro helpfully pointed out, the crowd gathered poolside at the Hollywood’s SkyBar at the Mondrian Hotel wasn’t comprised of their average weekend clientele. “This is where we all go to meet our friends on Saturday night, right?” she asked, gesturing the bevy of fish-out-of-water hipsters. Chalk it up to the powers of Jens Lekman—his fans will follow him anywhere, even into the steamy under-belly of Los Angeles posh nightlife.

All of Darren Aronofsky’s films stem from singular obsessions. Be it Pi, with math as an apocryphal glimpse into transcendence; Requiem for a Dream, in its junkie’s quixotic self-delusion; or The Wrestler, with the pursuit of fleeting fame for some divine redemption, the protagonists in Aronofsky’s films sacrifice everything for the single-minded pursuit of their objectives. Black Swan is no exception

Nightlands’ debut full-length, Forget the Mantra, is a dizzying sound quilt, stitched together from pieces of found sounds, aging cassettes, Gregorian chants, multi-layered chouses, Afro-rhythm sections, handclaps, and (most certainly) a few things that go bump in the night.

Chimes explode like sparklers on “Infinity,” the opening track on Sun Airway’s debut album. The same dreamily magic effects are sprinkled through the rest of Nocturne of Exploded Crystal Chandelier. It shines and glimmers with effervescent keyboard puttering and melodies as beautiful as anything on Animal Collective’s Merriweather Post Pavilion.

Much of Psych’s humor is centered on references to the ’80s and early ’90s, so it’s no surprise that the show about fake psychic detective Shawn Spencer (played by James Roday) and his partner Burton ‘Gus’ Guster (played by Dulé Hill) would spend a whole episode paying homage to cult classic TV show Twin Peaks (which ran from 1990-1991).