On “BABY BABY,” Nourished By Time captures the frenzied illogic of current affairs. It’s a hi-octane, animated collage of cherubic backing vocals, new wave synths, and garage rock — similar to Cities Aviv or the Garden. The propulsive combination freshly recycles sounds, evading empty nostalgia. On the first verse, Marcus Brown deadpans about his creative success and ambition. But after the first jutting chorus, the track seems like it’s nearly about to derail. Then, his words spiral into observations on capitalism and global violence. “The evidence was haunting the world kept revolving/ If you can bomb Palestine/ You can bomb Mondawmin,” his voice starts to speed up, “And buy anything just buy it fucking often/ Yeah turn your fucking brain off, operation brain wash.” In the wake of all this destruction and consumerist manipulation, NBT makes a soundtrack for our current timeline that does more than mirror reality — it refuses to let us look away or disappear into fantasy. —Margaret

Let’s get Yves Tumor permanently added to the bar italia lineup — or else maybe Tumor and NINA can start a new band, as those bar italia folks are so fond of doing. Whatever it takes to keep this partnership going. On “WE DON’T COUNT,” the experimental producer-turned-nouveau glam rocker teams with Nina Cristante on a track that feels commercial and underground all at once. The guitar-driven backing track is raw and off-kilter, but it manifests in a catchy, immediate song that feels like it could have been a hit in the ’90s. Maybe it still can be now. —Chris

This song puts me in a Tom Petty power-pop dreamstate. As the Berries, Hotline TNT guitarist Matthew Berry is bringing a pristine craftsman’s touch to the kind of heartland indie rock practiced by the likes of Slaughter Beach, Dog and Empty Country. Press materials invoke both Fleetwood Mac and the War On Drugs, and “Angelus” sails confidently through that liminal space. Berry’s vocals are solid, especially when affixed to subtly infectious hooks like these, but I’m truly taken by the song’s brilliant deployment of guitars in service of mood and momentum. There’s no one virtuosic moment to jump out and grab you; instead, from the songwriting to the production, this is the sound of a master at work. —Chris

You know that feeling when you allow someone in your life to overstay their welcome, in futile hopes that your apprehension is proven wrong? I think of those situations when I listen to “Jetpack,” the new single from Boston nu-gaze band Fleshwater. Co-vocalists Marisa Shirar and Anthony DiDio find themselves stuck in the vicious cycle of a scorned relationship that simply won’t change for the better, the sunk-cost fallacy finally wearing off: “Re-examine this/ Shut your eyes again/ Seven years of unrest/ Does it end like this?” Somehow, even as the hardcore guitars and upbeat blasts of percussion rage on, “Jetpack” locates a sense of clarity. —Abby

There’s a foam pit at the trampoline park. It’s got a diving board, and you just jump off and land in foam rubber cubes. You can do crazy flips, and you can fall on your head, and it doesn’t matter because it’s foam. It takes forever to get out of the foam because you can’t really move on those cubes. There’s nothing stationary, no place to gain traction, so you just have to kind of slither through the cubes until you can get to the ladder. The kid behind you in line gets impatient, but what are you going to do? You’re trying. You just can’t move. It’s annoying, but it’s also fun. Now, imagine you landed in the foam pit only to learn that someone took out all the foam rubber balls and replaced them with live worms. This song sounds like that. —Tom