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    R&B That Sweats, Emotionally and Physically

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    New releases from Brent Faiyaz and Muni Long show how the genre has evolved in recent years.There’s a beautiful, crabby song in the middle of “Wasteland,” the new album by the singer and songwriter Brent Faiyaz, called “Rolling Stone.” The synthesizers are operating at full throb, what sounds like a meandering flute wanders in and out, and there are no discernible drums. Faiyaz opens with a lamentation: “I’m a rolling stone/I’m too wild for you to own,” then turns defensive, complaining, “First I’m exciting, then I’m gaslighting/Make up your mind.”He has an earnest, sturdy voice, sometimes deploying an anxious yelp that casually recalls Raphael Saadiq. But unlike that classicist singer, Faiyaz is more of an impressionist, alternating between vocal tones, delivering some lines with power and some from a distance. “Rolling Stone” is spacious and ethereal but not directionless — it is R&B that privileges mood over structure, soft daubs of feeling over authoritative belting.“I’m sorry in advance if I let you down,” Faiyaz sings, with an energy that sounds less like regret than resignation. He knows that he absolutely did.“Wasteland” is an album about failure performed by someone currently at the peak of his success. It just debuted at No. 2 on the Billboard album chart, reflecting the stored-up anticipation for the R&B singer since his last release in 2020.But Faiyaz’s ambient approach also encapsulates something about the state of mainstream R&B, which has had a challenging decade, and has only in the last couple of years found a new creative sweet spot. That hasn’t always been reflected commercially, however. There has been almost no turnover on the Billboard R&B albums chart — of the current Top 25, only seven were released in the last year, and many are several years old.This stagnation is in no small part a result of how Drake and his informal cache of protégés took the melodies and emotional gestures of R&B and seamlessly melded them into hip-hop at the turn of the 2010s, leaving a generation of pure singers interested in older modes of R&B in the lurch. Faiyaz is part of a newish wave — see also Bryson Tiller — that has reverse engineered Drake’s alchemy and applied it to R&B. For Faiyaz, that means soul music that’s trippy, fitful and attitudinal; there are almost no classic soul arrangements, nor even the hard swing of 1990s hip-hop soul.“Wasteland” demonstrates the limitations of that approach as often as its strengths. The album describes, in often discomfiting detail, the wages of fame, juggling boasting and self-loathing in equal measure. Faiyaz sings with conviction, but he’s rarely grounded. Instead, he lives somewhere out in space — a man regarding his experiences from afar.Its production, which zigzags, wheezes and soothes, rarely feeling steady, sometimes tells the story more effectively than he does. “All Mine” sounds like it’s being delivered through a shower of static, and “Price of Fame” rests on a bed of resonant plinks that feel bulbous and slippery. There are urgent punches of strings on “Loose Change” and new wave shimmers on “Jackie Brown.” (Faiyaz is a producer on most of the songs here, along with some regular collaborators including Jordan Waré. Intriguingly, Saadiq is also a producer on two songs.)But even as the production moves in various directions, Faiyaz’s story remains constant: He is a cad, made worse by success, and a disappointment to women he’s pledged to love. “I’m probably faded when you see me on the TV, I can’t help that/I’m just playing cards I was dealt bad,” he croons on “Ghetto Gatsby,” one of the album’s best songs (if you can ignore the Alicia Keys guest rap). Here he leans past Drake-like emotional reckoning and into the depravity that characterized the early mixtapes from the Weeknd.That continues on the series of skits that span the album, which catalog a desperately broken relationship between Faiyaz and a woman who is pregnant with his child. They’re uncomfortable, cruel and end with an awful cliffhanger; taken together, they’re almost as unsettling as “We Cry Together,” the aggrieved tête-à-tête from Kendrick Lamar’s latest album.There is sex on this album, but not much pleasure — mostly it’s a tool of ego. Even though Faiyaz boasts abstractly of his prodigious conquests, little is explicitly carnal — aggressive flirting on “All Mine,” and an allusion to leaving “love stains” in the back of an Uber on “Ghetto Gatsby.” Faiyaz’s in-and-out-of-focus mode doesn’t leave much room for ecstasy.That slack, though, has lately been taken up by female singers, who are revivifying the erotic in R&B. The frankness of Summer Walker and SZA, perhaps taking a page from the brashness of the recent class of female rap stars, including Megan Thee Stallion and Cardi B, has been one of the most thrilling movements in pop music over the past couple of years.When it broke out on TikTok late last year, Muni Long’s “Hrs & Hrs” felt like a logical continuation of that phenomenon. With languorous sensuality, Long sings about how time becomes elastic when you’re enthralled. “Order shrimp and lobster towers/But it’s me that gets devoured,” she sings, patiently and desperately, as if buckling under unrepressed humidity.That song originally appeared on Long’s self-released 2021 album “Public Displays of Affection,” the third she’d released under that artist name. (She formerly put out music as Priscilla Renea.) It was one of several songs of hers — “Thot Thoughts, “Bodies” — that underscored the importance of desire.Her new EP, “Public Displays of Affection Too,” is concise and tart. Her songs are crisply structured in the 1990s vein, sauntering head-nodders with pointed vocal emphasis. There is one up-tempo song, “Baby Boo,” which nods to the Atlanta bass classic “My Boo” by Ghost Town DJ’s as she and the rapper Saweetie engage in indulgent praise of their partners.But skepticism suits Long better, and the remainder of the songs thrive on the tension of craving the person that’s pulling away from you. On “Another,” she’s adamant about telling her partner someone else “bought me roses, you wasn’t focused.” “Cartier” links generosity and arousal: “If you tryna cuff/Wanna see the diamonds in your eyes while we’re making love.”The rawest track is “Crack,” by far the most explicit song Long has released: “If I let you take off my dress/What’s between my legs/You didn’t know that it could get you hooked like that.” It’s also her most relaxed moment, the sound of someone secure in her desire, and who doesn’t have time to be anxious. More

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      Bad Bunny Holds at No. 1, With Brent Faiyaz Close Behind

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      The Puerto Rican superstar earns his fifth week at the top, but “Wasteland,” an unexpected drop from the Maryland R&B singer, made a statement.The top album on the Billboard chart this week is Bad Bunny’s “Un Verano Sin Ti,” a streaming juggernaut that is notching its fifth time at No. 1.But just as notable is what lands at No. 2: “Wasteland” by Brent Faiyaz, an R&B singer from Maryland who eschewed the major-label route and has released his music independently, a path that usually means earning a bigger slice of a smaller pie. After putting out songs last year with guest spots by Drake and Tyler, the Creator, Faiyaz released “Wasteland” on July 8, with little advance notice. For the last week, the music industry has been focused on Faiyaz to see if he could not only topple Bad Bunny — one of the standard-bearers for streaming-driven superstardom — but also perform the rare feat of taking an entirely independent project to No. 1.“Wasteland” didn’t quite make it to the summit. But it got close enough to make a statement that will surely be heard by every new artist contemplating accepting a major-label deal. “Un Verano Sin Ti” had the equivalent of 105,000 sales in the United States, including 147 million streams, while “Wasteland” had 88,000 sales, including 107 million streams, according to the tracking service Luminate. Weekly equivalent sales for “Un Verano” have never dipped below 100,000 since its release in May, and it has racked up a total of 2 billion streams in the U.S. alone.Even though many artists today control their recording rights, and may have labels or imprints of their own, the majority of high-charting albums still pass through the major-label system. Each of the three global music conglomerates — Universal, Sony and Warner — operate large distribution arms that specialize in releasing music by independent acts. Bad Bunny, for example, may be signed to Rimas Entertainment, a company controlled by his manager, but Rimas has a distribution deal with the Orchard, owned by Sony.To release “Wasteland,” Faiyaz went through Stem, one of several indie-distribution platforms. The last No. 1 album that bypassed the major-label infrastructure was “Skins” by the rapper XXXTentacion in late 2018, via the independent music company Empire.Also on the chart this week, Aespa, a four-woman K-pop group, opens at No. 3 with the mini-album “Girls,” which had 56,000 sales, mostly as CDs. Harry Styles’s “Harry’s House” is No. 4 and Morgan Wallen’s “Dangerous: The Double Album” falls one spot to No. 5. More

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      Lizzo Conquers Self-Doubt With an ’80s Jam, and 7 More New Songs

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      Hear tracks by Brent Faiyaz, Pink, Marcus Mumford and others.Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new songs and videos. Just want the music? Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes). Like what you hear? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com and sign up for our Louder newsletter, a once-a-week blast of our pop music coverage.Lizzo, ‘2 Be Loved (Am I Ready)’“2 Be Loved (Am I Ready)” — from Lizzo’s new album, “Special” — is a self-questioning self-help pop track with 1980s drum machines and synthesizers pumping syncopated octaves and handclaps over an aerobics-friendly beat, heading toward the upward key change of a classic pop single. As Lizzo sings about temptation and insecurity contending with the promise of pleasure, it’s clear what’s going to win.Pink, ‘Irrelevant’Self-doubt turns to defiance and then to righteous anger in “Irrelevant,” a thumping, guitar-strumming, generalized pop-rock protest that makes up in spirit and momentum what it lacks in focus. As the arrangement builds behind her, Pink sings about fear, calls out religious hypocrisy, makes common cause with “the kids” and finally, backed by a mass of vocals, belts, “Girls just wanna have rights/So why do we have to fight?”Demi Lovato, ‘Substance’After all Demi Lovato’s travails, the singer wails a 21st-century plaint about superficiality and loneliness: “Am I the only one looking for substance?” The backup is pure professional punk-pop, pushing those loud guitars and muscular drums as Lovato works up to a near-shriek and flings “whoa-oh” as a hook. But the frustration comes through as loudly as the guitars.Brent Faiyaz, ‘Loose Change’Brent Faiyaz, an R&B singer, songwriter and producer, has landed collaborations with Drake, Alicia Keys and Tyler, the Creator. His surprise-released second album, “Wasteland,” which is full of songs and skits about romantic suspense — both good and bad — is poised for a big debut on the Billboard 200 album chart. “Loose Change” backs him with an implied beat — no drums, lots of space — sketched by syncopated chords from a string ensemble, skulking synthesizer tones and his own imploring voice. In a tremulous tenor croon that echoes Usher, he sings about how infatuation can turn to irritation, indicting his own worst impulses and wondering, “What’s left of us, what’s left of our lives?”The A’s, ‘When I Die’“When I Die” is morbid but practical, and ultimately affectionate. The A’s are Amelia Meath, from the electronic band Sylvan Esso, and Alexandra Sauser-Monnig from Daughter of Swords. Their new album, “Fruit,” is mostly other people’s songs, but “When I Die” is their own. Singing close harmony in what could almost be a nursery-rhyme melody, they add percussion and synthesizer bass lines over what sounds like marching feet. And they calmly provide instructions for a memorial — loud music, flowers, dancing, toasts and a funeral pyre “to light your way back home” — to remind survivors that “I’m sorry I left you behind/and I’m kissing you through this song.”Marcus Mumford, ‘Cannibal’Marcus Mumford, from Mumford and Sons, confronts deep and confusing trauma in “Cannibal,” from a solo album due in September. He doesn’t specify what happened, but he insists, “That wasn’t a choice in the mind of a child.” Most of the track is just his voice and a few guitar notes picked on low strings. But as he faces up to how hard it is to speak about the events, and pleads “help me know how to begin again,” a arena-filling band suddenly materializes behind him; it’s the breakthrough he longs for.Sabrina Carpenter, ‘Because I Liked a Boy’Things go wrong fast in Sabrina Carpenter’s “Because I Liked a Boy” from her new album, “Emails I Can’t Send.” It starts out sounding cozy and old-fashioned, with just an echoey electric guitar playing 1950s chords as she sings about what could be a rom-com flirtation: “We bonded over black-eyed peas and complicated exes,” she coos. “It was all so innocent.” But the chorus changes everything; an ominous synthesizer bass tone arrives and she’s being accused of being “a homewrecker” and “a slut” and getting truckloads of death threats, and the bass and drum machine heave beneath her like the ground is shaking. She keeps her composure, but just barely.Pantha du Prince, ‘Golden Galactic’Pantha du Prince — the electronic musician Hendrik Weber — works where ambient and dance music overlap. He’s fond of nature imagery and pretty, consonant sounds, but his music is changeable and contemplative rather than saccharine. “Golden Galactic,” from his upcoming album “Golden Gaia,” uses plinking, harplike motifs, repeating them a few times and moving on, constantly changing up the implied rhythms instead of settling into a loop. That restless motion is enfolded in swelling string-section chords, going nowhere in particular yet not staying still. More

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      A Rare Look at Bob Dylan in the Studio, and 13 More New Songs

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      Hear tracks by Tems, Adia Victoria, Cuco and others.Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new songs and videos. Just want the music? Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes). Like what you hear? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com and sign up for our Louder newsletter, a once-a-week blast of our pop music coverage.Bob Dylan, ‘Don’t Fall Apart on Me Tonight (Version 2)’“Don’t Fall Apart on Me Tonight (Version 2)” is from the latest deep dive into the Bob Dylan archives, the five-CD “Springtime in New York: The Bootleg Series Vol. 16 1980-1985.” The track is similar in feel — though full of Dylan’s improvisatory variations — to the take that appeared on “Infidels” in 1983, with a new mix that dials back the unfortunate 1980s drum sound. Dylan had a superb studio band, with the Jamaican team of Sly (Dunbar) and Robbie (Skakespeare) on drums and bass, and a conversational interplay between Mick Taylor (formerly of the Rolling Stones) on slide guitar and Mark Knopfler (of Dire Straits) on electric guitar. It’s not the most radical discovery in the set — which also includes rarities like “Enough Is Enough” and “Yes Sir, No Sir” — but it arrives with live footage of the sessions, a rare glimpse of Dylan in motion in the studio. JON PARELESThe War on Drugs featuring Lucius, ‘I Don’t Live Here Anymore’The War on Drugs trades psychedelic haze for 1980s heft in “I Don’t Live Here Anymore.” Adam Granduciel sings about coming to terms with the past, breaking up, letting go and moving on, deciding — with the voices of Lucius as a choir — “We’re all just walking through this darkness on our own.” Deploying neat, reverberating guitar and synthesizer hooks like Don Henley’s “Boys of Summer,” the song is a booming march toward a willed recovery. PARELESTems featuring Brent Faiyaz, ‘Found’This stellar duet between the young Nigerian singer Tems and the R&B crooner Brent Faiyaz is saturated with an easy melancholy. On the song from Tems’s new EP, “If Orange Was a Place,” she sounds anxious and unraveled: “I feel I might just be coming undone/Tell me why you can’t be found.” When Faiyaz arrives, he’s alternately soothing and cloying. “Found” has echoes of SZA’s insular angst, and also the robust, earthen texture of mid-1990s R&B. It’s utterly swell. JON CARAMANICACarly Pearce and Ashley McBryde, ‘Never Wanted to Be That Girl’A stoic and affecting back and forth between Carly Pearce and Ashley McBryde, both coming to the realization that they have a man in common. It’s a timeless trope, and an effective one — neither one attempts to out-sing the other, a gesture of their shared frustration (unlike in, say, Reba McEntire’s blistering 1990s duets with Linda Davis, which delved into throat warfare). CARAMANICAAdia Victoria, ‘Mean-Hearted Woman’After dabbling in electronic textures with her 2019 album, “Silences,” Adia Victoria circles back, at least partway, toward bluesy roots-rock on her new album, “A Southern Gothic.” Its songs deal with power, mortality and, in “Mean-Hearted Woman,” heartbreak and revenge. Lingering on one chord, with a plucked guitar and a persistent tambourine, she sings about being dumped and replaced, and while her voice stays quiet and breathy, she moves bewilderment and heartache to fury, with a death threat that’s no less menacing for staying quiet. PARELESCuco, ‘Under the Sun’“Under the Sun” is a shape-shifting statement about the journey to self. Cuco immerses us in interdimensional psych rock, only to quickly shift to a cumbia interlude, and then to a wave of lightning guitar licks. In the video, he leaves a lit candle at an altar featuring the artwork for his 2019 album “Para Mi.” Consider this a new era, one where all bets are off. ISABELIA HERRERASnail Mail, ‘Valentine’“Why’d you want to erase me?” Lindsey Jordan — the songwriter behind Snail Mail — yowls in “Valentine.” It’s a song about affection, obsession, estrangement, jealousy and bewilderment, with tempestuous quiet-LOUD-quiet indie-rock dynamics that mirror a passionate, messy, still unresolved relationship. PARELESMoor Mother, ‘Rogue Waves’For years, it has felt painfully imprecise to slap the “hip-hop” label onto the music of Camae Ayewa, a poet, electronic musician and Afrofuturist who performs as Moor Mother. (Not that that’s stopped streaming services and other grid jockeys from trying.) But two confluent things have been happening recently: Ayewa is embracing lower-slung, more head-nodding beats, and hip-hop itself is becoming a spacier, gooier, more abstract zone. The new Moor Mother album, “Black Encyclopedia of the Air,” features guest spots from rising rappers and vocalists, like Pink Siifu and Orion Sun, on most tracks. But on “Rogue Waves,” over a hydraulic swinging beat, Ayewa goes it alone — confronting subject matter that’s sometimes abstract and evocative, elsewhere tender and intimate. GIOVANNI RUSSONELLOCraig Taborn, ’60xsixty’In the same week that he announced his first solo album in 10 years (coming Oct. 8), the pianist Craig Taborn released another collection of music that’s similar in nature, but not quite the same. “60xsixty” contains 60 restive and fleeting pieces, all about a minute each, that play back-to-back at 60xsixty.com in a randomized order that’s different each time you visit the site. You’re unable to pause or skip: The listener’s usual sense of control is stripped away, as is the very notion of a finished product — Taborn has said he may swap out some tracks for new ones in the future, keeping the total number at 60. The current range of tracks varies from 12-tone-scale improvisations on acoustic piano to the kind of squelchy, three-dimensional electronic music that Taborn makes with his project Junk Magic. On other tracks, he’s most concerned with stirring up ambient sound. RUSSONELLOOneohtrix Point Never and Elizabeth Fraser, ‘Tales From the Trash Stratum’Leave it to Oneohtrix Point Never and the Cocteau Twins vocalist Elizabeth Fraser to craft the ultimate experiment in glossolalia. “Tales From the Trash Stratum” runs like a New Age seminar on mushrooms: OPN collages glitchy arpeggios, synth crashes and delicate piano keys; Fraser’s echoed sighs and angel-dust melodies flicker in and out of the production. It’s a blast of neurological delirium and decay, rendered as soothingly as possible. HERRERAAmaarae featuring Kali Uchis, ‘Sad Girlz Luv Money (Official Remix)’Last year, the Ghanaian American artist Amaarae quietly released “The Angel You Don’t Know,” an imaginative, buoyant album that masterfully harnessed all kinds of Afro-diasporic sounds, including R&B, Southern rap and Nigerian highlife. “Sad Girlz Luv Money” was an immediate standout: a breezy Afropop anthem for midnight trysts. On the official remix, the Colombian American singer Kali Uchis whispers hushed, silky come-ons in Spanish, and Amaarae’s sky-high melodies and smoky raps curl over the beat. HERRERALindsey Buckingham, ‘Swan Song’A frenetic drum loop, like a pummeled punching bag, drives “Swan Song” from Lindsey Buckingham’s new, self-titled album, recorded solo in the studio and released after his severance from Fleetwood Mac and emergency triple-bypass surgery. The mix feels inside-out, with his voice enclosed by percussion while his flamenco-tinged acoustic guitar and wailing electric guitar both poke outward. He taunts mortality — “She says it’s late, but the future’s looking bright”— with fast fingers. PARELESIann Dior featuring Lil Uzi Vert, ‘V12’What a dreamily beautiful song from Iann Dior, a sweet-sounding sing-rapper with just the faintest of barbed edges, and Lil Uzi Vert. Together, they’re boastful and playful, and yet the production has an elegiac edge, as if sadness were an inevitable byproduct of success. CARAMANICAOuri, ‘Chains’Ouri — the Montreal composer and electronic producer Ourielle Auvé — sketches a track being assembled and tweaked on the spot with “Chains,” from her album “Frame of a Fauna,” due Oct. 22. She dials in swooping sounds, echoey vocal syllables, a glitchy beat, tentative chords; the dance beat solidifies, falls away and reappears, briefly locking into syncopation with wordless vocal syncopations before evaporating. The video shows Ouri concocting a CGI dancer who leaps out as flesh and blood: virtual efforts turning physical. PARELES More

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      Taylor Swift Rejoins Her ‘Folklore’ Crew, and 8 More New Songs

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      Hear tracks by Brent Faiyaz featuring Drake, J. Balvin and Skrillex, Chicano Batman and others.Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new songs and videos. Just want the music? Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes). Like what you hear? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com and sign up for our Louder newsletter, a once-a-week blast of our pop music coverage.Big Red Machine featuring Taylor Swift, ‘Renegade’Big Red Machine is the project of Aaron Dessner — the guitarist in the National who was a producer on Taylor Swift’s “Folklore,” “Evermore” and her remake of “Fearless” — and Justin Vernon (Bon Iver), who wrote and sang “Exile,” a high-angst duet with Swift on “Folklore.” Swift sings two songs on the Big Red Machine album due Aug. 27, and regardless of the billing, she dominates “Renegade” with her melodic sense and personality: terse, symmetrical phrases carrying a coolheaded assessment of a failing partner, as she fends off attempts to “let all your damage damage me/and carry your baggage up my street.” The Big Red Machine aspect is in the production details — multilayered drones, tendrils of electric and acoustic guitar, Vernon’s distant backing vocals — but “Renegade” would fit easily on a Swift album. JON PARELESBrent Faiyaz featuring Drake, ‘Wasting Time’The way Brent Faiyaz approaches his verses over the lush, vintage-minded Neptunes production of “Wasting Time” is airy and a little fleeting, as if he’s so absorbed in his pitch to a potential lover that he can’t quite bring himself to stick close to the beat. “If you got time to waste, waste it with me,” Faiyaz pleads, almost pulling back from the request, casting his line while averting his heart. But there’s surety in the layered chorus — a Neptunes standard — and the thumping bass line, and then in the guest verse from Drake, which strikes a sour note about what it means to give of yourself and get crickets back: “Fluent in passive aggression, that’s why you actin’ dismissive/Hearing me out for once would require you actually listen.” JON CARAMANICAJ. Balvin and Skrillex, ‘In da Getto’Credit where credit is due: The lion’s share of the block-party spirit in this song, which is perfectly designed to be blasted all summer, comes from the beat, organ hook and female vocals that the producers Skrillex and Tainy got by sampling “In De Ghetto” by David Morales and the Bad Yard Club featuring Crystal Waters and Delta, from 1994. They built on their acknowledged source, grabbing and crisping up the best moments and tossing in some sirens, while Balvin’s gruff rapping stokes the festivities. But the foundation was already there. PARELESDe Schuurman, ‘Nu Ga Je Dansen’In the late ’80s, DJ Moortje, a selector from the Dutch Antillean island of Curaçao, mistakenly played a dancehall track at the wrong speed during his set at a club in The Hague. The result was a breakneck, squeaky-voiced sound called “bubbling,” a style that would veer into a thousand new directions over the next couple of decades. A new release from the Ugandan label Nyege Nyege Tapes is a reminder of the movement’s innovation. “Bubbling Inside” compiles previously unreleased tracks from De Schuurman, a staple of the scene a decade ago. Its standout, “Nu Ga Je Dansen” (“Now You’re Gonna Dance”), is a two-and-a-half minute club rampage. The first 30 seconds recall a late ’90s rave — all sirens and unhinged ferocity. But before long, a flood of kick drums arrives, beckoning everyone to the dance floor. ISABELIA HERRERAChicano Batman, ‘Dark Star’The musical DNA of Chicano Batman is rich with references to bygone eras: the trippy deliria of psych soul, the political ambitions of Brazilian tropicália and the concept-driven idiosyncrasies of prog-rock, among others. But the Los Angeles band has never been interested in mere nostalgia, as it reminds us on “Dark Star.” The song is arranged like a puzzle: a jagged, layered bass line (à la Madlib) clashes with serrated guitar lines, while laid-back vocals glide over the production. In the chorus, the lead singer Bardo Martinez’s voice blooms into what feels like sunny psychedelia. But blink for a second and you’ll miss the ominous undercurrent of the track: The “Dark Star” at hand is not a celestial being, but America — a somber place contending with the legacies of racial violence that still drive its everyday reality. HERRERATi Gonzi, ‘Kudzana Dzana’Tinashe Gonzara, the 28-year-old Zimbabwean rapper and singer who performs as Ti Gonzi, has been recording prolifically since 2009 and winning music awards in Zimbabwe. He has already put out an album this year, “Sendiri Two.” But his newer singles have concentrated on melody as much rapping. “Kudzana Dzana” (“Hundreds and Hundreds”) stacks up vocal harmonies over a teasing, flexible three-against-two groove of percussion and guitar picking that hints at Shona mbira (thumb-piano) traditions but also lets an electric guitar wail. “Life is a journey,” announces one of the few lyrics in English. PARELESTarrus Riley, ‘Heartbreak Anniversary’Giveon’s “Heartbreak Anniversary” is almost incomparably inconsolable. That it’s become the soundtrack for a TikTok dance trend borders on the lunatic. But perhaps that unlikely juxtaposition set the table for this cover, by the reggae star Tarrus Riley, which neatly leavens its angst. Over undulating, swinging production by Kareem Burrell and Dean Fraser, Riley sings not like a man mopping himself up off the floor, but rather one smoothly sauntering to safety. CARAMANICASarah Proctor, ‘Worse’“I know that it hurts/I know I’m going to make it a little bit worse,” Sarah Proctor tells the lover she betrayed. Piano chords toll and vocal harmonies swirl around her, making her sound reverent and contrite — except that she’s not apologizing. She’s breaking up. PARELESSquirrel Flower, ‘Iowa 146’Ella Williams, the songwriter behind the indie-rock of Squirrel Flower, doesn’t shy away from whisper-to-shout full-band crescendos on her band’s new album, “Planet (i).” But “Iowa 146” sticks with the whisper, accompanied by folky picking and all sorts of sustained near-phantom sounds, as she sings about the romance of sharing a guitar. PARELES More