“It’s a woman’s world and you’re lucky to live in it,” Katy Perry insists on “Woman’s World,” a song featuring six writers (including Lukas Gottwald, aka Dr. Luke, who was behind her hit album “Teenage Dream” before her lengthy legal battle with Kesha). “Sexy, confident, so smart, she’s a godsend,” Perry sings. “So sweet, so strong.” With echoes of Madonna’s ’90s electro-pop, the praise continues throughout this synth-heavy, positive-vibe statement of the obvious. It’s a shame that the over-the-top music video—featuring a post-apocalyptic sequence peppered with social media influencers—can’t live up to the euphoric sound.
Colombian native Bomba Estéreo provides the rhythm, flute, vocals and Spanish-language bridge behind a joyously assertive Nelly Furtado on “Corazon,” from her album “7,” out in September. Floating a joyous, catchy chorus over the Afro-Colombian beat, Furtado invokes a perpetual party spirit, insisting that “my heart can’t stop.”
Bright Eyes, “Bells and Whistles”
“Expensive jokes and cheap thrills are expensive,” Conor Oberst says on “Bells and Whistles,” a full-bodied shuffle that’s also a meditation on New York, half-hearted self-promotion, and the joys and ugliness of a rock career. “Second-hand amps, a twisted crash/The band sounds like an animal,” he sings. Reunited with his longtime Bright Eyes musical backers—Mike Mogis and Nate Walcott—Oberst marshals keyboards, glockenspiel, whistles, and more to reflect on decades in the trenches of indie rock.
Zach Bryan with Bruce Springsteen, “Sandpaper”
Since the rockabilly days, country music has been feeding off the remnants of rock. Zach Bryan, the depressed but prolific songwriter who found a giant audience while ignoring Nashville country clichés, makes his lineage clear on “Sandpaper,” a duet with none other than Bruce Springsteen. It’s a humble love song—“I ain’t afraid of death/I’m afraid of losing you”—that draws on both the steady beat of Springsteen’s “I’m on Fire” and Springsteen’s instinctive resilience: “They’ve been trying to smooth me over for 27 seasons now,” Bryan says.
Sturgill Simpson, a songwriter with country roots and multiple genres, committed to making just five solo albums, a arc that concluded with his 2021 concept album, “The Ballad of Dood and Juanita.” Now he’s found an escape: a name change. His new album, “Passage Du Desir,” is credited to Johnny Blue Skies, and it’s deliberately eclectic, nodding to outlaw country, Memphis soul, countrypolitan and Pink Floyd. The seven-minute “Jupiter’s Faerie” is a melancholy drama. Its narrator thinks about the ex he broke up with a decade ago, decides to reconnect, then discovers she’s gone, possibly by suicide: “I chose to pull back and move on,” he sings. “I guess pain became the only thing each day would bring.” » Piano chords, a string orchestra and a hint of the Beatles’ “A Day in the Life” play behind him as he realizes, “There are no happy endings, only stories that end before they’re over.”
Dua Saleh, “Want”
Desire trumps judgment in “Want” by Sudanese-born, Minnesota-raised, Los Angeles-based Dua Saleh. After reuniting with an ex who “blew it,” Saleh sings, “I know we probably shouldn’t but/Oh, I think I wanna, wanna, wanna.” The synthesizers evoke vintage Janet Jackson, but the song deepens and takes on a march-like quality as Saleh raps, coos, growls, and revels in a connection that has little chance of lasting.
Quavo and Lana Del Rey, “Tough”
Quavo and Lana Del Rey, the rapper and the pop singer, collaborate as equals on “Tough.” It’s neither a rap with a pop chorus nor a pop song with a rap verse. Though Quavo headlines, the song begins like one of Del Rey’s slow, minor-key ballads, as she muses, “Life’s gonna do what it does.” A ticking trap beat announces Quavo’s arrival, punctuating a new melody (with the help of Auto-Tune) to emphasize a mournful stoicism: “Still shining like a diamond in the rough/Still shining, and it’s hard if you ever lost someone you love.” Eventually, Quavo joins Del Rey’s melody, but they continue to listen to each other intently.
Heavy breathing punctuates the rhythmic track of “Gold Coast,” a song about relationships that could start in a club or on a beach. “Dance on you and you dance on me/Yes or no, well your hips don’t lie,” Moses Sumney sings with teasing anticipation. From a stripped-down opening, the track layers together guitar, vocals, and electronics as Sumney (and his partner) can “bang all night and sleep all day.”
Magdalena Bay, “Image”
Magdalena Bay, the songwriting duo of Mica Tenenbaum and Matthew Lewin, mixes glossy, sophisticated electronic pop with harmonies, plots and sentiments that are far less optimistic. The disco-tinged track “Image,” from the forthcoming album “Imaginal Disk,” hints at a transformation that could involve plastic surgery or something more sci-fi. “Oh so hot/Meet your brand-new image,” Tenenbaum sings in an upbeat, airy voice. But in the final chorus, the synthesizers pile up and distort, suggesting a transformation with far-reaching consequences.
Odie Leigh, “Anyway”
On her debut album, “Carrier Pigeon,” Odie Leigh wrestles with the awkwardness and uncertainties of a potential romance, strumming her acoustic guitar and questioning her every impulse. “Either Way” is full of questions—“Do you want to know me the way I want to know you?”—with a six-beat rhythm that reflects her uncertainty by oscillating between two and three beats.
Laura Marling contemplates new motherhood and the unfolding of generations on “Patterns,” the title track from her upcoming October album, “Patterns in Repeat.” Backed by acoustic chords and snug, sustained strings, Marling takes the long view. As she imagines what it’s like “to have your children, your flock of birds/Your branch in the forest” and considers how “as the years go by, they’ll consider you a friend,” the vocal harmonies float like imaginary descendants.
Dawn Richard and Spencer Zahn, “Breath Out”
“It’s time to let go now/You can breathe out,” Dawn Richard advises, offering solace with glimmers of underlying tension, on “Breath Out,” a preview of “Quiet in a World Full of Noise,” her second collaborative album with composer Spencer Zahn. Echoing piano notes float above swelling strings as Richard sings about finding respite from drama and trouble, even if it’s only temporary.