Here’s the plotline for Luray’s new video: Jolted awake by a thunderstorm, a young girl comforts herself with a music box that emits a warm glow and the gentle sounds of Luray. No ordinary music box, the device contains secret powers, transporting the girl out of her dark bedroom and into a bucolic field teeming with life. At video’s end, our young heroine is shown rowing a boat on a lake in slow-mo.

“Promise of Lakes,” with all its deep-summer vibes, was filmed in Southern Maryland around Labor Day in 2013. The editing stretched to Christmastime, which was not the ideal season to release a sun-dappled clip, says Luray’s vocalist and banjo player, Shannon Carey. So she put it on pause — for a few years.

“I’ve just been holding onto it and waiting for the right time,” Carey says, “and feeling like it will come.”

That time is now, before Luray embarks on a short tour of the Mid-Atlantic. (The band plays D.C. Tuesday night.) But a lot has changed since Carey recorded “Promise of Lakes,” a highlight from her 2013 album, The Wilder. Luray has since released an EP and prepped a new full-length, and Carey has found herself in new circumstances.

“It does bring up emotions for me to watch something that I made at that time, because a lot has changed for me,” says Carey. “I don’t live [in Maryland], I live in Richmond now. I’m no longer with my husband who I made that with. So, yeah, it definitely is bringing up feelings when I’m watching it.”

That’s not the only thing that’s changed: The young dreamer who stars in “Promise of Lakes” has grown up.

“We filmed this puppy three years ago,” Carey says with a laugh, “so now the little girl is, like, no longer little.”

Luray plays June 7 at DC9 with Citrine and Louis Weeks.

“I like to treat a lot of my songs like tiny stories,” says Henry, 29.

That’s how the Arlington native approached her song “Hands” (listen below), a highlight from the EP, Matchsticks, out May 15.

“The story of this song is about a person who is trying to reach out to a friend who is having trouble trusting — and just trying to express that that’s an understandable feeling. Everybody goes through those moments where they don’t know if they can trust their own feelings,” Henry says.

The songwriter, who has written and performed songs since age 13, grew up jamming with her family members. Her parents had a band that played oldies covers, and she says these days, it’s not unheard of for her to break into a four-part harmony with her mother, godmother and godmother’s daughter.

“I’ve been hearing music in my house in rehearsals and stuff since I was basically born,” she says.

Henry’s mother makes a cameo as a backup singer on “In My Eyes,” another cut from Matchsticks, and mom and daughter will sing together when Henry plays Arlington venue IOTA May 15.

But Matchsticks isn’t strictly a family affair. The EP features Suvo Suri on electric violin and Lighting Fires member Andrew Gaddy on vocals and instrumentation. And while her parents’ love of folk and country has influenced her music, Henry takes her sound in a different direction, imbuing her songs with indie sensibilities and pop flourishes.

She’s excited to release the EP, then finally hit the road for a summer tour.

“It is hopefully just the beginning of a whole lot of big and beautiful music,” Henry says.

Henry plays a release show May 15 at IOTA Club & Café.

“I’ll write you songs in an open key,” the duo sings on their recent EP, I Guess We’re Doing Alright. “The notes will ring out into eternity.”

Daviss and Kelly, both 24, met while studying at Yale, where they sang in a capella groups. Neither majored in music — they mostly just played for fun — but they had formidable musical backgrounds: Daviss, a native Texan, played both violin and guitar, and Kelly, reared in South Carolina, had skills on saxophone, guitar and drums.

As their bond has deepened, so has their shared investment in music-making. “Music has become more and more a big part of our lives and our relationship,” Daviss says.

Handsome Hound’s EP isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, however. Track No. 5, “Hannah,” brings depth to their sound. Daviss says the song harks back to her childhood in the South, where social norms around gender were clearly drawn and reinforced.

The song channels the “feeling of wanting to push back on that, but not push back so much that you’re not yourself anymore,” Daviss says.

“Hey, hey, hey Hannah, don’t lose yourself tonight,” the song goes. “I know you wanna keep putting up a fight.”

Daviss and Kelly say they’re both feminists — and proud of it.

Handsome Hound jokes about their name and the dogs on the EP’s cover — “What I like to tell people on stage is that Claire is pretty handsome and I sort of look like a dog,” says Kelly — but their moniker has roots in history.

Cuchulain is an old Irish name, related to the mythological figure Hercules, Kelly says. But it literally means the “Hound of Culland,” Culland being a province on Old Northern Ireland. When Kelly’s peers mocked his name in the schoolyard, he complained to his dad.

“I’d be like, ‘Dad, why’d you guys give me this weird name?’” Kelly says, “and he was like, ‘Tell them it means Handsome Hound.’”

Handsome Hound plays April 30 at the Kingman Island Bluegrass and Folk Festival.

“I was thinking strategically and maybe a little bit cynically about calling a place home,” says Servick, 27. “I was sort of skeptical about D.C. being a place, ultimately, for me to stay.”

It was this experience that inspired the lyrics for “Under the Pines,” one of the first songs her indie-folk trio wrote together.

Servick met guitarist Avy Mallik when they both answered an ad to back a traditional Indian musician at the Kennedy Center. Less than a year later, they formed the band Near Northeast, with Servick on vocals and violin and Austin Blanton on bass.

The trio released its debut album Curios in 2015, and worked with D.C.-based photographer and animator Kip Radt and graphic artist Ashley Blanton — Austin’s sister — to animate a music video for “Under the Pines.”

“A lot of my art includes very solitary, lonely figures,” Ashley Blanton says. “When Kip animated it, all of these misfit characters came together and found this place where they all fit.”

The music video melds realistic symbols and photographs of Northeast D.C. with a fantasy world constructed from Blanton’s artwork. Radt used Blanton’s work to create paper doll parts that he later animated.

The first lines of the song, “I think I’m gonna find a slow train to ride” jumped out at Radt, and he asked his mother to send him his grandfather’s old toy train set for the project. But the group decided on another protagonist: a lonely cloud.

“The cloud is a symbol for us all, wanting to feel loved and belong to something bigger,” Radt says.

Mallik initially wrote the music for “Under the Pines,” drawing influence from the late Takoma Park fingerstyle guitarist John Fahey, as well as Merle Travis, Chet Atkins and bluesmen such as Lead Belly, Son House and Blind Boy Fuller.

But Near Northeast has more unconventional ideas for its next batch of songs.

“We’ve talked a lot about music and shared a lot about music,” says Austin Blanton, 26. “We’ve found some stranger things that we’re interested in that we’d like to explore now” — including Servick’s new electric violin.

Near Northeast plays Hot Tub House Feb. 26 and the Hamilton March 3.

That could be partly why Sandcastle Man, the forthcoming EP from Carey’s atmospheric group Luray, sounds so exploratory. Its concept is inspired by someone drummer C.J. Wolfe encountered on a trip to South Africa: a man who made his living building sandcastles and posing for photos with them.

Carey wrote lyrics to accompany Wolfe’s music for the song. She says it’s a fable about finding one’s way back home while facing trials, and describes the work as a metaphor for her own journey from her native Wisconsin.

“I know I can always go back to real home,” Carey says, “but there’s the part of you that wants to see the world and be an adventurer while also trying to find where you fit in.”

A former D.C. resident who now lives in Richmond, Virginia, the singer and banjo player debuted in 2013 with a serene release called The Wilder. Her second full-length, out in 2016, promises to chart new emotional territory in the aftermath of her breakup with her husband.

“The first record was more about trying to find myself as a creative person,” Carey says, “and [the next] one is more about relationships.”

Since her first album, Carey has built a new set of important relationships — with the people now in her band. She says she met Wolfe halfway through his music studies at Virginia Commonwealth University, and became acquainted with bassist Brian Cruse and guitarist Scott Burton through Bon Iver trombonist Reggie Pace. (Carey’s brother Sean also plays in Bon Iver.) They bring fresh elements to her sound, including notes of jazz and the mbira, an African finger piano Wolfe brought back from his travels.

Carey’s family members and friends contributed to her first album, but she wanted to find musicians to play the songs live with her.

“I still write the songs, but they do all of the instrumentation,” Carey says. “I bring a song a practice or send it to them and they write their parts and then we all work on it together.”

Recorded at D.C.’s Rock & Roll Hotel, the EP — out Nov. 17 — includes a “space-agey” remix of the single, courtesy of Snow Panda. (Stream the remix below.)

“The whole thing sounds really trippy, but really interesting,” Carey says of the remix. “We told Snow Panda to have total freedom with the strong and do what he thought sounded cool. It’s really different from what we normally do, but really fun. Kind of whimsical.”

Luray performs Nov. 8 at 2206 1st St. NW in D.C.

Hailing from Providence, Rhode Island, Sianna Plavin recently stopped by Bandwidth’s Wilderness Bureau studio to share a couple of songs from her new LP, Go On Now, which she recorded while on break from working as a farmer. A former resident of Baltimore, Plavin has played in folk band Backyard Betties and chamber-folk act Soft Cat. Watch her perform two gently stirring songs, “Who Do You Love” and “Go On Now.”

Subscribe to Bandwidth’s channel on YouTube, and don’t miss our awesome playlist of every Bandwidth session to date.

Photos by Maggie Famiglietti

1. Even Magic Falters

“A few years ago, I kept getting sick. I tried all kinds of things to help improve my health, like herbal steams and Kundalini yoga classes. Sometimes, I felt like I was imbibing potions or concocting spells. Despite all my efforts, nothing felt like it was working. I ended up having this realization that things happen to the body that are beyond our control. Meditating on mortality reminded me of mystical stories, like the quest for the fountain of youth and encounters with wizards. That led me to read a story about Merlin. I was surprised to learn that his infatuation with Lady of the Lake led to his downfall. Magicians and wizards are often portrayed as invincible beings, but reading about their weaknesses showed a more relatable and human aspect to these supernatural characters.”

2. Your Bower

“After watching a David Attenborough special on bowerbirds, I felt compelled to write a song about their whimsical behavior. Male bowerbirds build twig-like caves and decorate them with all kinds of found objects. It’s fascinating that they tediously weave these complex designs, all in hopes of attracting a mate. I see correlation between the bowerbird’s craft and my own songwriting, as we both use song paired with intricate structure to lure in listeners.”

3. Kapunkah

“‘Kapunkah’ means ‘thank you’ in Thai. It was one of the first words I learned how to say while traveling in Thailand. Although I couldn’t speak Thai, I wanted to be able to express gratitude when interacting with people. While visiting a small island in the Andaman Sea, my friends and I met some locals who took us on a series of memorable adventures. This was such an enriching trip, and it left a positive impact on my spirit. I came up writing this festive song as a way to give thanks to everyone who took part in these vibrant encounters.”

4. Ocean

“Water is a recurrent theme throughout this album. It’s such a powerful and transformative source of energy. I spent some time contemplating bodies of water and tried to apply their attributes to my own life. For example, ponds create self-contained habitats, so I’d use that imagery when focusing on my own self-development. Glaciers move at their own pace, which I’d keep in mind while practicing patience. These musings helped me find grounding when I would feel unsettled about things. I ended up turning these thoughts into a song about a wandering sailor. The sailor wonders what it would be like to belong elsewhere, but in their heart knows that they’re right where they should be.”

5. Calm Canary of the Arctic Sea

“One time, I read this article about a beluga whale that learned how to imitate the human voice. It inspired me to write a spin-off story where the beluga whale develops the ability to communicate to humans but is viewed as a spectacle. From there, the song explores the ideas of consciousness and existence. As fun as it is to marvel about extraterrestrial life throughout the universe, it’s heartbreaking to realize how destructive we are with life on Earth. This song channels the helplessness I feel when acknowledging the continuous damage our planet faces from human impact.

“The beluga whale is called the ‘canary of the sea’ due to its high-pitched chatter. By using this nickname, I’m able to allude to the phrase ‘canary in a coal mine,’ where canaries where used to detect environmental hazards. I wanted the beluga whale to represent an innocent messenger that could warn humans about their dangerous habits.”

6. Fourth Son

“In English heraldry, the first son inherited the family estate, while the second and third son went to work in the church as priests. The fourth son was left to carve out his own line of work. His cadency symbol was the legless martlet, symbolizing restlessness and the inability to settle due to the lack of a designated role.

“While I was working on my first album, I really identified with the concept of the fourth son. I was trying to find my own path as a musician, but felt like I wasn’t making enough progress or meeting people’s expectations. Instead of pursuing a full-time job, I took on various gigs that offered flexible schedules so that I could focus on music. Sometimes I felt looked down upon because I didn’t have a prominent position, but I knew that I had to pursue my musical endeavors. I faced a lot of external and internal challenges along the way, but I ended up covering so much ground and accomplished a lot of ambitious projects.”

7. Alexander

“Once I had this vivid dream that I was a young mother that witnessed the accidental drowning of my toddler. I woke up feeling an immense wave of grief. Later on that day, while walking along the Potomac River, I couldn’t help but recall the visceral imagery from the dream. I took a break to sit by the water and began piecing together scenes from the dream through song. If I could interpret this dream, it’d probably stem from my uncertainty around the idea of parenthood. I’m old enough to be a mother, but I’m not sure I’m ready to handle that responsibility.”

8. Will-o-the-wisp

“Last spring, my boyfriend and I were both planning respective solo hiking trips. Even though we were excited, there was some worry in the back of my head. What if we came across some conflict in the woods? I tried to rationalize that problems can arise anywhere in life, and reminded myself that fear is a present obstacle that can keep you pursuing new experiences. It was right around then that I came across the concept of the will-o-the-wisp. According to folklore, will-o-the-wisps are glowing, supernatural orbs that appear in swamps and forests at night. Known to be mischievous or even malevolent, will-o-the-wisps often lure travelers off their paths with their hypnotizing glow, only to abandon them in the dark. These troublesome spirits felt like the perfect symbol for the anxiety I was having around solo hiking.”

9. Legend of the Neighborhood

“Aaron Brown and I met in high-school guitar class, immediately bonding and developing a close friendship through music. When we graduated high school, we both bought our dream guitars. I got a nylon Cordoba and he bought a Dimebag Darrell electric guitar. It was the first and only check he ever wrote, as he died shortly after.

“When I heard the news, I went to a gathering at his parents’ house. As people were pouring out memories of Aaron, someone said, ‘He was a legend of the neighborhood, always walking that black dog around.’ When I got home, I started writing a song about Aaron as a way to process my emotions. That line that I overheard really stuck out and became the introduction to a little a cappella ditty, which in due time morphed into a groovy track celebrating his exuberant spirit.”

10. Paint-chipped Windowsill

“The lyrics for this song were originally intended for something that my friend wrote. He had this melancholic guitar track and asked if I could come up with something to accompany it. It reminded me of waking up and watching a snowstorm unfold. We never got to put that song together, but I carried those lyrics with me for years. I was just about done putting songs together for Spirit House when I came up with my own guitar part for those words. It felt appropriate to wrap up the album with this stripped-down song.”

Copyright 2015 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

Over and Even is available now. (iTunes) (Amazon)

Set List

• “Easy Now”
• “Stay On My Shore”
• “Not Over By Half”

Credits

Producers: Bob Boilen, Morgan Walker; Audio Engineer: Josh Rogosin; Videographers: Morgan Walker, Lani Milton; photo by Lani Milton/NPR

For more Tiny Desk Concerts subscribe to our podcast.

Copyright 2015 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

A thousand prior readings would be discernible in its pages, just as Appalachian and Celtic folk traditions are discernible in Shelley’s lilting voice, backed by Will Oldham and Glen Dentinger, and in the rambling, ebullient guitar she plays alongside Nathan Salsburg. Over and Even doesn’t branch into uncharted territory subject-wise, but Shelley writes the sort of relatable, cleareyed poetry about landscapes both physical and emotional that Joni Mitchell made shine on Blue and Ladies of the Canyon. While Shelley’s trills are more Emerald Isle than Golden Coast, “Over and Even” is a gorgeous dead ringer in both sound and style.

A book by Shelley would be as rooted in its surroundings as this album is. It would have rivers running through it, and birds sketched at the end of every chapter. Over and Even, the album, is traditional folk music as true as it comes despite being captured in the here and now. These are songs for any place and time, today or 50 years from now. This is a book for re-reading and then handing down.

Copyright 2015 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.