Normally Dan Bejar is the protagonist in Destroyer songs — and on his contributions to the New Pornographers catalog — but on “Bologna,” the lead single from the immaculately titled Dan’s Boogie, the Vancouver auteur makes himself a side character. His unmistakable slinky rasp is no less potent playing off Fiver’s Simone Schmidt, who pumps glorious melodrama into lyrics like “There’s an outside chance/ You’ll never see me again/ Night comes in on wings/ That explains things.” Give me a whole album of duets from these two.

On the other hand, who even cares about the vocals on a track this luxuriant? Those bongos! That bass! Behold, in awe, the way the hazy organics morph into ominous, hard-cracking synthpop so gradually that you barely even notice the ground shifting beneath you. Destroyer have conjured an ultra-specific form of moonlit beachfront funk — music that feels beamed in from the dream of someone who fell asleep on the couch during Miami Vice in 1986, just begging to be sampled on a chillwave song in 2009. —Chris

Way too many conversations about Blondshell turn into debates over the nature of art made by well-connected rich kids. That back-and-forth has its place, but sometimes, you just have to be like, “Damn, that song is pretty good.” This is one of those times. The fuzzed-out power chord that hits right when the drums arrive? The tingly grunge-pop riffage? The soft regret that creeps into Sabrina Teitelbaum’s voice when she realizes that she’s just hooked up with another chump, that she only seems to hook up with chumps? That chorus? That guitar solo? All pretty good! All reminders that we can sometimes just let things be pretty good! —Tom

For their first song in more than a quarter century, the middle-aged men in reunited screamo cult lords Saetia tap right back into a sound that felt fully post-adolescent the first time around. These days, screamo is a codified global scene with its own aesthetics and festivals and mini-subgenres. When Saetia started, it was just raw, passionate basement hardcore, music where the singers would wrap mic chords around their arms and flop around on the ground. On “Tendrils,” that’s how it sounds again. The flourishes here — the proggy time-signatures, the tangled riffs, the spoken-word part — all feel like honest and direct ways to express deep alienation, not like items on a genre checklist. Once again, they’ve made this music make sense. —Tom

SPELLLING has a knack for making music that sounds like it’s from another galaxy. “Portrait Of My Heart” is Chrystia Cabral’s newest otherworldly tune — taken from her just-announced new album of the same title — and it’s as fun as it is celestial. With enchanting strings and a cathartic chorus, “Portrait Of My Heart” serves as a cinematic, urgent anthem about alienation. It’s the best possible first preview of Portrait Of My Heart. –Danielle

“Brinna ut” means “burn out” in Swedish. I’m not sure how English-language idioms work over there, but “Brinna ut” — the latest single from Gothenburg’s JJULIUS — sounds far from exhausted. The DIY producer born Julius Pierstorff is readying his upcoming LP Vol. 3, and its first teaser finds the unlikely sweet spot between two of his biggest inspirations: the stark eclecticism of Arthur Russell and the brooding, iconoclastic spirit of the Fall. “Brinna ut” is a dose of warm, complex dance-punk that indicates JJULIUS has a long way to go before succumbing to burnout himself. Factor in drums from Viagra Boys’ Tor Sjödén and additional vocals from fellow Gotheburgian Loopsel, and you’ve got yourself a cozy, dreamy, extremely Nordic jjam. —Abby