CMAT’s EURO-COUNTRY, out today, is more than a cheeky play on words with currency and capitalism. The album is the Irish pop star’s full, if temporary, pivot to alt-country. Her latest single “When A Good Man Cries” clearly demonstrates that CMAT has the skill to effortlessly glide between genres — proving herself a powerful, chameleonic yodeler.

“When A Good Man Cries” is a formidable make-peace-with-yourself salve. The jubilant fiddle cries and CMAT’s reflective, fluttering tone feel like an extended helping hand. The jaunty acoustic guitar strums and knee-slapping percussion refuse to let you sink into self-loathing. In the song’s final moments, she references Judee Sill’s “The Donor,” repeating the phrase “kyrie eleison” (the Greek phrase for “Lord, have mercy”) where her vocals stretch towards salivation. It feels like transcendent point — referencing a folk predecessor to move forward into the future with grace, asking you to get up off your self-pitying ass and make good on allowing yourself a second chance. Self-forgiveness never sounded so good. —Margaret

“T-60” is frantic and exhilarating. Broken Record’s blend of post-hardcore, emo, and pop has always hit hard, but the combination of noise-bombed nervous tension, relentless melody, and runaway-train momentum here marks a new peak for the Denver band. It’s like some blog-friendly late 2000s noise-pop band tried to concoct a Warped Tour anthem and ended up with rocket fuel instead. —Chris

In an alternate universe. Bob Dylan never wrote “Highway 61 Revisited.” He had a headache that day, or maybe he got distracted by whatever was on TV, and the song just never existed. Nothing else really changed. The Highway 61 Revisited album came out under some other title, and everyone still loved it. Johnny Winter and PJ Harvey picked out other Dylan songs to cover, and history unfolded in pretty much the same ways. But that “Highway 61 Revisited” groove still sat out there, unused and unexplored — an inspirational sine-wave travelling across space and never quite finding a home. That’s until some alien-alligator mud-creatures from Planet Choogle discovered that groove and used it to yowl nonsense about generically named generals and horses dancing in times of war. They arrived on Earth in their filth-encrusted flying saucer with that groove blasting, and they drew hordes of shirtless-dancing pilgrims to the landing site. All of society rebuilt itself around that groove, and Bob Dylan briefly woke up from a nap, cocked his ear, and said, “Damn, I should’ve thought of that.” This song sounds like that. —Tom

Oklahoma City shapes the creative processes of residents Chat Pile and Hayden Pedigo, but the similarities in their music pretty much stop there. However, in spite of their opposing sonic approaches, the two acts are teaming up for a forthcoming collab album called In The Earth Again. And against all odds, its lead single “Radioactive Dreams” feels like a no-brainer.

“Radioactive Dreams” combines the grit and grime of Chat Pile’s metallic noise-rock with Pedigo’s brooding, fingerpicked folk. The result is meandering, stunning, and dystopian all at once, as the song’s narrator ponders their place in a world plagued by tragedy: “So I’m sitting now/ Half in the earth/ With the ghosts of my friends/ And the ghost of the world.” In those moments when you, too, feel like a ghost of yourself, “Radioactive Dreams” is a one-way ticket to the spirit world. —Abby

“You said I needed my own friends/ So I found them/ Then you fucked them.” Austra gets straight to the point on her Chin Up Buttercup lead single “Math Equation.” Her vocals are pained as she drawls over a pulsating, glittering beat. The song is sonically bright but also full of empty space; it captures the sensation of being in an excited crowd and feeling completely alone. If Chin Up Buttercup is all similar heartbreak-inspired party anthems, count me in. —Danielle