My Chemical Romance – the New Jersey band that fuses the momentum of pop punk, the crunch of hard rock and the luscious productions of glam – announced their split in 2013 and released their latest new song in 2014. 2019, “The Foundations of Decay” is the first new material since. There’s no punk sarcasm for now; as the music builds from a measured lament to a booming anthem, the lyrics both recognize the ravages of time and combat, even on the brink of a new tour. JON PARELES
The smile, ‘the opposite’
On their debut album, “A Light for Attracting Attention,” The Smile features Radiohead’s Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood, along with another drummer, Sons of Kemet’s Tom Skinner. The new band’s ingredients are largely right as expected: a leaner take on Radiohead’s time-honored thoughts of alienation and malaise, bringing rhythm to the forefront. Skinner kicks off “The Opposite” itself, with a sputtering, shifty funk beat that is soon topped off by an accumulation of overlapping, stop-start guitar riffs, each adding a new bit of disorientation. Yorke might describe the song himself when he sings, “It goes back and forth followed by a question mark.” PARELES
black midi, ‘Welcome to hell’
“Welcome to Hell” announces black midi’s third album, “Hellfire”, due out July 15. It’s a whimsical, funky, fast-paced mini-suite, alternately brutal and sardonic, with lyrics about the dehumanization of a soldier. “To die for your country, you don’t win a war / Killing for your country is what wins a war,” sings Geordie Greep. The music is exciting; the aftertaste is gloomy. PARELES
Kendrick Lamar, ‘The Heart Part 5’
Kendrick Lamar has created a series of songs called “The Heart” as an introduction to his albums. “The Heart Part 5” arrived a few days before its new, “Mr. Morale and the Great Steppers.” As always, Lamar’s work is layered, self-questioning, thoughtful, rhythmic and daring.The song’s bouncy, penetrating conga drums, bassline and backing vocals come from Marvin Gaye’s “I Want You,” a title Lamar uses again to appeal to his fans. On the sonic level, Lamar’s fast-talking vocals challenge the congas for syllable-by-syllable momentum.His mission is to “sacrifice personal gain above all else / Just to see the next generation better than our own.” of the song uses deep-fake technology to make Lamar look like charged cultural figures, including OJ Simpson, Kanye West and Nipsey Hussle, this is hip-hop that works through its own implications, contradictions and repercussions.
Flores, ‘Brown’
Flores’ voice has brilliance, but she can also envelop messages of pain and pride in moments of soft sharpness. On “Brown”, from her debut EP “The Lives They Left”, she meditates on her upbringing on the border of El Paso-Juárez: the violence of government agencies such as ICE and CBP, as well as the small pleasures of everyday life, which she calls ‘brown trust’ and ‘brown love’. A lone saxophone echoes below the production, while Flores reflects on the resilience of the native ancestors who preceded her: “When they ask you where you people come from/16,000 years we’ll let it be here/Valleys stained with blood and tears/Mexica know/ This is the land we have sown / laid the seeds that grow.” ISABELIA HERRERA
Remi Wolf, ‘Michael’
“Michael” is a relatively understated song for an artist as antique and kaleidoscopic as Remi Wolf, but she still leaves her mark on it. Written with Porches mastermind Aaron Maine – their first time working together – and Wolf’s touring guitarist Jack DeMeo, the song is a singing representation of romantic despair, with Wolf singing from the perspective of someone clinging to an obsessive relationship she knows. that it is doomed to failure. “Michael, hold my hand and spin me around until I’m dizzy,” she begs atop a dark electric guitar progression. “Unleash my chemicals.” LINDSAY ZOLADZ
Julia Jacklin, ‘Lydia Bears a Cross’
Australian singer-songwriter Julia Jacklin’s music is a gradual accumulation of small, sharp lyrical details, and ‘Lydia Wears a Cross’, the lead single from her forthcoming album ‘Pre Pleasure’, is full of: Two Young Girls’ listen to ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’ soundtrack”; a child who “sings every word wrong” on a float; a catechism teacher who instructs her students to pray for Princess Diana. Such snapshots create a greater atmosphere of religious indoctrination and Jacklin’s youthful questions, “I felt beautiful in the shoes and the dress/Confused by the rest, could he hear me?” The arrangement is sparse—drum machine, piano echoes—to showcase Jacklin’s stories, but a subtle unease creeps in when she gets to the haunting chorus: “I’d be a believer, if it was all just song and dance/I I would be a believer if I thought we had a chance.” ZOLADZ
Death Cab for Cutie, ‘Roman Candles’
Ben Gibbard sings about numbness and detachment, claiming “I’m learning to let go of everything I’ve been trying to hold onto,” in “Roman Candles,” the preview of an album due out in September. But the music belies any claim to serenity. Drums, bass and guitars are all overloaded and distorted, pounding away in a relentless two-minute wave. PARELES
The Black Keys, ‘How Long’
There’s usually some fear in between the muscular classic rock riffs on a Black Keys album. The duo’s new version, “Dropout Boogie,” features “How Long,” the confession of a betrayed lover of desperate devotion. Just two descending chords, a cycle of disappointment, carry most of the song, with layers of guitar piling up like heartache. “Even in our last hour/See the beauty in the dying flower,” Dan Auerbach sings in the bridge, but the obsession isn’t over; the song ends with the narrator still wondering, “How long?” PARELES
Joy Oladokun, ‘Purple Haze’
It’s not Jimi Hendrix’s number. “You and I know that love is all we need to survive,” Joy Oladokun emphasizes in her own “Purple Haze,” where she preaches togetherness in the face of terrible possibilities. A syncopated acoustic guitar and Oladokun’s determined voice reference Tracy Chapman as the song begins; more vocals and guitars join her, urging optimism even when “maybe we’re running out of time.” PARELES
Ambar Lucid, ‘Girl is so beautiful’
Ambar Lucid may be known for her brass voice, the size of an arena, but on her new single, she’s venturing into new territory. “Girl Ur So Pretty” glistens like pixie dust: in an airy, gossamer falsetto voice, the 21-year-old artist serenades her crush with sparkling synths and hand clapping from girl group from the ’00s. It’s a welcome twist on the gum pop of a bygone era, and she also brings her ironic humour, “Can’t tell if I’m in love or high,” she sings. “I usually don’t like earth signs.” HERRERA
Ches Smith, ‘Interpret It Right’
There is a nervous, bated breath over the music that drummer and vibraphonist Ches Smith makes with his new quartet featuring Mat Maneri on violin, Craig Taborn on piano and Bill Frisell on guitar. It’s not complete fear, but it’s not simple anticipation either. For a drummer-led LP, “Interpret It Well” is full of extended passages without drumming; latent tension hangs where the percussion could have been. On the title track, Smith taps the vibraphone in a pattern of resonant octaves, and the rest of the quartet grows restless behind him. A bluesy aside from Frisell sends the band into silence, and Taborn plays a long cadence. Towards the end of the nearly 14-minute track, the four run forward together. This is the peak, but the stench of anticipation still lingers, as if something else, even louder—or utterly peaceful—is waiting right in front of you. GIOVANNI RUSSONELLO
Jacob Garchik, ‘Fanfare’
The trombonist and composer Jacob Garchik treated his new album, ‘Assembly’, as a canvas for some impressive formal experimentation, and there is rarely a dull moment. The tracks feature spontaneous improvisations that have been reframed via overdubs; complex compositions that mix two different tempos; and dissections of pieces from the jazz canon. On the fast-charging ‘Fanfare’, as Garchik and soprano saxophonist Sam Newsome harmonize on a series of descending and ascending patterns, the rhythm section’s off-track backing gives the illusion that things are speeding up. Then suddenly a long, cooled-down passage, just trombone and piano, begins with Garchik sounding as buttery as Tricky Sam Nanton about changes borrowed from Duke Ellington’s “In a Sentimental Mood.” RUSSELLO