A lot of mind-blowing music exists in Seattle, and much of it writhes below most of our media outlets' radar. With that in mind, here are four intriguing new releases that may have slid by you.

ALVARIUS B., Baroque Primitiva (Abduction, www.suncitygirls.com/abduction).

When you're partially responsible for Sun City Girls classics like Torch of the Mystics and 330,003 Cross Dressers from Beyond the Rig Veda in your discography, you can get away with some less-labor-intensive releases. Alan Bishop's Alvarius B. solo project allows him the freedom (not that Sun City Girls weren't all about freedom, but still...) to play as raggedly as he wants, to pump out 28 doodles on one LP if he desires (see 1994's Alvarius B.), or to release his editions in maddeningly tiny runs (get 'em NOW before they go out of print FOREVER!).

On previous solo efforts, Bishop has come off like Jandek or Syd Barrett, only with more of an appetite for global musics. Wielding an acoustic guitar, Alvarius B. strums—sometimes viciously—loner-folk instrumentals whose tunes twist and fray in unexpected ways, although they sometimes coalesce into achingly beautiful shapes, as you might expect from a fan of the "Midnight Cowboy Theme." But more often, Alvarius B. songs scamper with nervous energy and radiate a fleeting enchantment before Bishop unceremoniously lops them off without notice. With Baroque Primitiva, though, Bishop delivers his "pop" opus and broadens his instrumental palette, with help from the great Eyvind Kang on viola, bass, drums, and piano.

Loving covers of John Barry's glorious James Bond theme "You Only Live Twice" and the Beach Boys' "God Only Knows" stand out from Alvarius B.'s oeuvre for their blatantly populist hooks and swooning, sweeping melodies. Six Ennio Morricone compositions also receive Alvarius B.'s devotional attention; Bishop proved his impeccable appreciation of the soundtrack maestro by curating the essential Crime and Dissonance compilation. And three Alvarius originals reinforce the man's slithery, spindly songwriting brilliance. Baroque Primitiva is a delightful, subliminal song cycle, and the easiest entry point into Alvarius B.'s prickly musical omniverse. A booklet featuring Kristin Anderson's artfully weathered nude-female photography completes a superior package.

BLOOD BOX, Funeral in an Empty Room (PAS/Loki, www.loki-found.de).

Blood Box is the fathoms-deep, beatless music endeavor of Michael Hensley, who also records with dark-ambient stalwarts Yen Pox. The music on Funeral in an Empty Room envelops you like a seemingly innocuous gas, but the closer you listen, the more you realize that some infernal logic is at work, subtly undermining your tenuous sense of security. The eight long tracks here unfurl in luxurious wisps, inducing a sensation that's at once vast and claustrophobic. The longer you listen to Funeral, the more adrift and uneasy you feel (horror-flick directors seriously need to hire Hensley). Are you tranquilly floating in space or hopelessly ensnared in a diabolical web? Yes.

MASTER MUSICIANS OF BUKKAKE, Totem Three (Important, www.importantrecords.com).

Master Musicians of Bukkake have matured from embodying the last word in their name to stressing the first two. Their shambolic early shows came off as Beefheart's Magic Band sloshed on goofy ribaldry. The last few years, however, have seen MMOB morph into a mystical troupe of ethnological explorers, seeking aural enlightenment in all the right places (Morocco, Indonesia, Tibet, Popol Vuh's Germany, MMOB leader Randall Dunn's Aleph Studios). They create the illusion of manifesting sacred music of far-flung places, but claim to be more in the vein of "heavy-metal new age," as guitarist Milky put it in a 2009 Stranger interview.

With the final—and best—installment of their Totem trilogy for the Important label, MMOB have honed their spiritual drones and holy-mountain'd processions into transcendental hymns that stain your glass righteously. The seven tracks here bloom slowly and majestically, inducing higher states of consciousness. The anomaly is "In the Twilight of Kali Yuga," which sounds like a Turkish psych-rock nugget rescued from 1971 and given a new coat of bliss. In Hindu cosmology, Kali Yuga represents a phase of great strife, but the song's uplifting peacefulness begs to differ. Overall, listening to Totem Three makes you feel like you've been indoctrinated into the coolest religion ever. Hallelujah!

SYCH, Lunar Roulette (Strange Attractors Audio House, www.strange-attractors.com).

Now in his mid 60s, saxophonist Wally Shoup remains a titanic force in the country's improv/noise scenes. He's kept his national profile high with collabs featuring Nels Cline, Thurston Moore, Jeffery Taylor, Chris Corsano, and C. Spencer Yeh. The latter two free-music superstars—on percussion and violin/vocals, respectively—join Shoup and Seattle guitar surrealist Bill Horist on Lunar Roulette, another important addition to Shoup's stirring canon. This isn't his most fiery, lung-busting effort. Rather, the quartet mostly go for simmering, cagey tussles where exquisite tension and exotic, dissonant textures prevail. Somewhere in the interstices of free jazz, noise rock, and minimalist composition, Lunar Roulette harnesses a cyclonic energy that's inspirational.