Up in the Northern Hemisphere, most of us might’ve never heard of Joh Bjelke-Petersen, the so-called “hillbilly dictator” who ran the Australian state of Queensland for decades. Stll, the story of a right-wing authoritarian who tried to outlaw protest remains sadly relevant. In translating Bjelke-Petersen’s story into music, Sydney duo Party Dozen have altered their normally frantic, expressionistic style, going instead for an oddly hopeful kind of dramatic post-punk churn. “The Big Man Upstairs” sounds inspirational, and it should. Corruption charges brought one petty dictator down. We need that to happen more often. —Tom

A clarification: This song has nothing to do with Greg Ginn and Henry Rollins, even though you know that Denzel Curry knows who they are. Instead, “Black Flag Freestyle” is a chance to hear two supremely strong rappers go in and talk their shit. Entire generations of Southern underground rap run through the 808s, delayed horn loops, and fast-but-slow flows of “Black Flag Freestyle.” Curry and That Mexican OT have deep historic roots, and they’ve also got casual punchlines to burn. Curry: “Bein’ broke my kryptonite, bein’ rich my superpower.” OT: “I’m beefin’ with alligators ’cause I killed they cousin just to make his bitch ass into boots.” —Tom

Consciously or not, a lot of us are guilty of viewing our lives as a series of goalposts that we can only conquer by meeting some predetermined set of criteria, and on the other side waiting for you are total satisfaction and an unyielding sense of purpose. Meanwhile, Allegra Krieger argues that there’s really only two milestones one has to meet: You get born and then you die. Complete with a full backing band, the singer-songwriter’s new single “Never Arriving” reimagines the human experience as an opportunity for boundless exploration, where compassion carries more currency than accomplishments. “Just an unraveling/ A traveling/ To a slow, wandering death,” Krieger opines. It’s not nihilistic or apathetic — it’s aspirational. —Abby

How often is music made to get back at somebody? It’s natural; songs are a good place for artists to grapple with situations in their lives, but it’s always one side of the story you’re hearing. Charli XCX’s “The girl, so confusing version with lorde” transforms music into a space for dialogue. “And it’s just self-defense/ Until you’re building a weapon,” Lorde sings about her impulse to seclude herself. It’s a statement that encapsulates one of the main themes of Brat — being a brat is often a form of self-protection as a result of insecurity (“Wear these clothes as disguise,” Charli admits on “i might say something stupid”).

Together, Lorde and Charli express a deep vulnerability that is both sincere and original, rather than the superfluous kind that is constantly being sold by musicians during album cycles (aren’t you tired of hearing that X’s new record is their most vulnerable yet?). Charli practically promised the opposite by bragging “It’s okay to just admit that you’re jealous of me” on the nearly narcissistic lead single “Von dutch,” which makes the earnestness and camaraderie on “The girl, so confusing version with lorde” all the more satisfying. Brat captures how womanhood can make you feel like a pendulum swinging back and forth between the extremes of self-confidence and self-loathing. But when Lorde sings “’Cause I ride for you, Charli” and Charli ends the song with “You know I ride for you, too,” it’s a reminder that the only way to get through it is by being there for each other. —Danielle

MJ Lenderman reliably writes with the wit and hindsight of someone at least double his age. The proof is in the slacker-country jam “She’s Leaving You,” where the beloved Zoomer guitar god who’s lived in the mountains his whole life takes down a man who’s self-medicating his midlife crisis with at least one affair and a joyride to Vegas in a borrowed Ferrari. “We all got work to do,” Lenderman croons on the massive, swooping chorus, with just enough detachment that this “work” can take a variety of meanings: The things we do out of obligation, the things we do to better ourselves, the things we do to distract ourselves from what we know we should’ve done before. When his Wednesday bandmate Karly Hartzman comes in, her feminine vocals take over the song’s outro in what feels too pointed to be anything other than a final, intentional jab of irony. Since we know MJ loves his sports references, it feels appropriate to call “She’s Leaving You” yet another slam dunk. —Abby