How do you learn from previous experiences without dwelling too long in the past? Florist’s delicate “Feathers” is all about perspective and how it changes over time. Emily Sprague murmurs, “Sometimes I think I have too many pasts,” over mid-tempo acoustic strums and a Calexico-esque pedal steel. Then comes a real coming-of-age line: “I have more to learn and yet, this time I am knowing/ It comes like fire in my head.” Her words set in like a friendly debate about free will versus fate. Florist might not have the answer, but “Feathers” may inspire you to do what a good therapist once advised me: Take a bird’s eye view of your life. —Rachel

About a week ago, Usher’s Tiny Desk Concert hit the internet and immediately became a wellspring of mega-viral memes. There’s a reason for that. Usher may not be cranking out earthshaking hits the way he once did, but he’s still a masterful ham, a born entertainer to the bone marrow. You can hear that gift at work on “Good Love.” There, Usher’s effortless smoothness beautifully compliments the City Girls’ proudly horny club-rap. The song’s cranked-up electro beat connects rough verses and silky hooks, and the drunk-on-joy roller-disco video just makes the whole package that much more irresistible. We should never take Usher for granted again. —Tom

For their forthcoming Freakout/Release, Hot Chip were trying to capture their live sound in the studio. So far, it seems like that means they’re going all-in on the squiggly bangers that they’ve perfected over the last two decades. “Down” was an infectious first glimpse of the album, and now we have “Eleanor.” While neither feels like quite as much of an evolution as the best songs on A Bath Full Of Ecstasy, Hot Chip locking into their sweet spot works wonders too. There’s a few other Hot Chip albums “Eleanor” could’ve plausibly existed on, but it also has some newer threads, a sweetness and a lushness even as it fizzes and bops around. Hot Chip are basically an institution now, but the fact they can still just spin out these earworms like it’s nothing is just reemphasizing what a joy their music can be. —Ryan

Matty gonna Matty. The good Mr. Healy is never not doing the most. It’s how one of the more tasteful and understated 1975 singles to date — on which an Arthur Russell-via-“Viva La Vida” baroque string section gives way to Bon Iver worship so zealous it could pass for the real thing — ends up strewn with references to imaginary handjobs, ironic wokeness, and “Vaccinista tote bag chic baristas,” among other eyebrow-raising or eyeroll-inducing turns of phrase. (“I like my men like I like my coffee…”) Healy leans into his every extra impulse here, yet somehow even his most egregious howlers play like art when attached to darting, gliding melodies and set to such graceful production. He remains uniquely gifted at toeing the line between self-indulgent bullshit and self-indulgent brilliance; few writers are so good at getting a reaction out of people. And if praising these lyrics is a bridge too far, wow, ain’t the music pretty? —Chris

“Pharmacist” is a curious and exciting choice of a lead single from Alvvays. After five years away, they return with a blast of blazing and bright shoegazey goodness that sounds less like one of the their fully-formed indie-pop songs and more like an appetizer for the album that will follow in a few months. It’s a euphoric rush nonetheless, one that keeps opening up on repeated listens. Molly Rankin’s voice is a bit more buried in the mix than it usually is, but the words that peek out are intoxicating: “You know it happens all the time, it’s alright/ I hear it happens all the time.” Her languidness is offset by glistening guitars and a gliding confidence that suggests a band ready for a comeback. —James