A couple of weeks ago, the Los Angeles band Touché Amoré played a surprise set at Sound And Fury, the giant hometown hardcore festival where they can be considered OGs. (They were supposed to headline the cancelled 2020 edition, so this was a kind of make-good.) The surprise set lasted all of 11 minutes, and it included the first performance of “Nobody’s,” the single that they hadn’t released yet. At hardcore shows, nobody plays unreleased songs; the whole point is to get the crowd whipped up, singing along. But Touché Amoré understand their own power. “Nobody’s” is a fierce, passionate, seesawing ripper about the merciless march of time and the way you can question your direction and find yourself even more dedicated to it. It could’ve killed at Sound And Fury a decade ago, and it could kill there next year. In footage of this year’s set, you can see the song wash over the crowd for the first time, and you can see how excited people will be the next time they hear it live. —Tom

Though it’s a bit mind-boggling to consider now, there wasn’t a whole lot of shoegaze happening in the US when Californians Starflyer 59 put out their 1994 self-titled debut album (aka Silver). By their fourth album The Fashion Focus, the prolific Jason Martin-led project strayed away from the noise in favor of something mellower and more serene. That’s all fine and dandy, but it’s been nice to hear Starflyer 59 return to form with their more recent releases. Such is the case with “909,” a real guitar rocker that’s totally enveloped in distortion and somehow just as melancholic as it is inviting. Martin likens himself to “an animal chasin’ and diggin’ for a bone” in a brooding drawl, while the slight twang in the guitars makes me want to take off in a convertible Thunderbird à la Wild At Heart. With the shoegaze craze showing no signs of slowing down, it’s useful to have a band like Starflyer 59 around to remind the kids how it’s really done. –Abby

It makes sense that Spirit Of The Beehive released consecutive tracks “Something’s Ending” and “I’ve Been Evil” in one combined music video, as they basically flow together seamlessly. But the former is really just scene-setting for the latter, an urgent and anxious guitar excursion laced with lovely string arrangements. It speeds along through the space between Radiohead and the Strokes, which is not a sound I expected coming from the woozy experimentalists who’ve helped to shape the state of modern indie rock. But the Beehive crew have achieved their vaunted stature in part by surprising us again and again, so the only real surprise would be if they stopped surprising us. —Chris

“And I miss the mountains/ Tryin’ not to get caught havin’ sex/ In public places/ Worried that you’re still texting your ex.” “The Ocean,” the latest single from Atlanta emo band worlds greatest dad, is an infectious, irritated anthem about wishing you had enough money to be hedonistic. Chaotic memories are the only sense of thrill left, and there’s no desire to ameliorate your behavior: “I just don’t believe in healing,” Maddie Duncan sings, a refreshing admission in the midst of an era of therapy-speak. “The Ocean” longs for intensity while also providing it through invigorating riffs and relatable, funny lyrics. —Danielle

It’s almost a cliché to write bright, happy, energetic songs about soul-crumbling depression. The contrast is easy. It’s built in. On first listen, I thought that was happening with Origami Angel’s “Dirty Mirror Selfie,” a vengefully fast pop-punk pummel with monster chorus harmonies and sick-ass riffs. I heard Ryland Heagy bleating about hating himself for so long, and I thought that was the whole point. But “Dirty Mirror Selfie” is really a song about coming to understand your own depression and realizing that you can do something about it. It’s Heagy giving himself the “it’s not your fault” speech from Good Will Hunting, and its triumph is real and visceral. Heard in that light, there’s no contrast in the spirit and sentiment of “Dirty Mirror Selfie.” Everything works together in concert and even the stomach-lurch hardcore breakdown evokes the struggle of the fight and the ecstacy of the victory that might not be here quite yet. —Tom