“And beg your pardon, but/ Fuck y’all fight it for/ Got the wind at your back, baby/ And it’s blowing somеwhere warm.” That’s the kind of romanticized post-“Born To Run” bluster Japandroids have been dealing in since “Young Hearts Spark Fire,” and as they prepare for one last ride, it only feels right to step back into the myth. “Chicago,” a song about a perfectly imperfect couple traversing this nation’s highways, taps into Brian King and Dave Prowse’s well-worn dudes-rock ethos. But it breaks the Japandroids mold in some important ways, building up slowly and never fully giving itself over to runaway-train momentum a la hits such as “The House That Heaven Built.” All throughout, King keeps returning to the refrain, “Sorry baby, we call it like we see it in Chicago.” You could make a case that it’s corny, but the whole point of this band is to let go of your inhibitions and give yourself over to larger-than-life celebration rock. “Chicago” gives us more than enough to work with in that regard. —Chris

Hardcore folks making ’90s-inspired pop-rock has yielded some of the greatest music of the decade so far, and the trend has now reached its power ballad stage. “Thought You Were Waving,” the first proper Militarie Gun single since last year’s “Do It Faster”-powered official debut album, succeeds by doing it slower. The song is a steady churn that plays out like the Pixies channeling Oasis, full of noise-tinged lead guitar melodies and built around a chorus that seems designed to get lighters in the sky. “I thought you were waving/ Turns out you were drowning,” Ian Shelton shouts. “Really wish I could read your mind.” I can already hear whole festival crowds singing along. —Chris

f you have any semblance of a human soul, you’ve probably caught yourself grinning at the sight of a dog out and about who just looks so stoked to simply be living another day. If you’re Drug Church, you take that observation one step further. The hooky, hardcore-ish band’s new single “Demolition Man” meditates on the idea that humankind might just be the only species without some sort of objective that nature predestines; we eat, we sleep, we might procreate, but what do we do with all that time in-between? “Picture being built for one thing/ And when that thing is done, you feel free,” vocalist Patrick Kindlon muses in his scorched howl, lamenting the “call centers and percocets” that dot our existence with false senses of usefulness and relief. “Terriers live to kill rats/ Retrievers carry birds through reeds/ But there’s no reason for you to leave bed.” Is it silly to feel envious of a dog? Maybe. Do Drug Church make a damn good case for it? Absolutely. —Abby

For the last few years, John Ross has been making increasingly lovely and serene music, building up to the release of 2022’s stunning ILYSM, an album all about Ross’ cancer diagnosis and treatment. Now, Ross is going for something else, and he’s nailing it just as hard. On “The Fences Of Stonehenge,” Ross and Wild Pink keep that lovely serenity intact, but they put it in service of some big, gleaming riffs. It’s a spin on ’80s arena-rock like Bryan Adams or Don Henley, but it feels just as still and inward and personal as everything that Ross does. He’s rocking, and he’s doing it his way. —Tom

One of the best things a vocalist can do in a heavy song is bark. I don’t care for Knocked Loose, but if “Counting Worms” comes on I’m going to yell along to the ARF ARF. The most invigorating part of a Militarie Gun song is their guttural OOH OOH. Now, Chat Pile are back, and they’re giving in to their animal instincts with “I Am Dog Now.” Throughout the ripper, Raygun Busch gradually becomes more vicious, the sharp edge of his growl intensifying with each second. He barks a few times, but mostly he howls so violently you can almost imagine him mutating into a werewolf. The track is also mixed by Ben Greenberg — who’s getting ready to release a bloodthirsty album of his own with Uniform. “I Am Dog Now” is amazing, uninhibited barbarism. —Danielle