As Open Mike Eagle explains it, he’s been making music with Still Rift and Video Dave in his apartment, a “dream dungeon.” One day R.A.P. Ferreira and an unnamed character stopped by, and they each laid down a verse over the trippy, synthy Illingsworth production that would become “Multi Game Arcade Cabinet.” Because the “mystery brother” made them cry, they subtracted his verse for use in a different context, which I can’t wait to hear. In the meantime, the four remaining verses are as awe-inspiring as the beat. This is one of those songs where almost every lyric feels quotable, even the vivid poetic passages I still haven’t fully unlocked. In fact, it’s such a rich text that it feels trite to analyze the lyrics in blurb form, though I did especially enjoy OME’s line, “You got a playlist called ‘Read The Mint Leaves’/ I listened, and it was all me and Mitski.” I want to hear that playlist, and I hope it includes this song. —Chris

It’s so nice when career musicians don’t fall into the complacency trap. French house standard-bearers (and cousins) Alan Braxe and DJ Falcon talk about embracing a sort of punk/DIY ethos on their first material as freshly formed duo Braxe + Falcon, particularly because “the musical landscape ad tools to make music have changed exponentially and become more complicated.” Instead of sticking to what they know best, Braxe + Falcon welcome the future and imbue that theme into a breezy track featuring Panda Bear on vocals. Over drawn-out synths and a grooving beat, layered falsetto vocals promise to “find a reason to stay” and to “take it step by step by step.” Taken together, “Step By Step” is a comforting reminder that change can be a positive thing — and if you’re feeling overwhelmed, just break it down into little pieces. —Rachel

It’s springtime, and the world needs prime pogo material just like this. You can practically hear the stars in Lili Trifilio’s eyes as she daydreams about visiting New York with a loved one, the two of them carving their names into subway seats. (Don’t do that, by the way. Transit cops don’t care about your romance.) All around Trifilio, guitars surge and explode, while the guy who co-produced “Hey There Delilah” pushes every pounding melody right to the front of the mix. I hear distant echoes of Weezer and Free Energy and Liz Phair in this heart-on-sleeve rocker, but Beach Bunny have their own kind of twinkle-rush on lock, and this is a prime example. —Tom

Channel Tres got his start making straight-up dance music, though in the past few years he’s branched out into claustrophobic R&B and hard-hitting funk. He went back to his roots with his new pair of singles, “Acid In My Blood” and “Ganzfeld Experiment,” both of which were produced by Godmode’s Nick Sylvester and both of which groove in insular, time-stretching style. The former is particularly divine, a twitchy drum machine accompanying Channel Tres’ musings on the sounds that shaped him. “Try and tell me this ain’t Black music/ Well, it ain’t,” he purrs at the start. “It’s Black precision/ And I’m precise as they can be.” It is indeed precise, and it signals his welcoming embrace of the dancefloor, our most hallowed space. —James

On All Mirrors, Angel Olsen blew out emotional anguish into grand, all-encompassing storms. Big Time seems to have plenty of complex emotional reckoning behind it: coming out, a first queer love and heartbreak, losing both of her parents. Those are some major life trials, some quite traumatic, and in “All The Good Times” Olsen looks back and begins piecing through it all. This time around, though, she’s back in that zone of adopting classic pop songwriting. “All The Good Times” feels like it could’ve easily existed in the ’60s or ’70s. It’s a warm, lived-in piece of music, with just a bit of haggard country stylings around the edges.

It also has a weathered, wise quality to it. Consider this as the opener to Big Time vs. “Lark” and its colossal catharsis kicking off All Mirrors. “All The Good Times” doesn’t quite erupt in that same way, but it does crest into a big moment towards the end, Olsen intensifying over organ and horns before finally saying, “Thanks for the free ride/ And all of the good times.” It’s one of those songs that sounds long-lost, like something that must’ve been in your life all along — a reflection on love and loss that feels eternal. —Ryan