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    Taylor Swift Lyrics: Who’s Mentioned on ‘Tortured Poets Department?

    Ex-boyfriends may be alluded to. Travis Kelce, too, fans believe. And some actual poets.When Taylor Swift released “The Tortured Poets Department,” on Friday at midnight, her fan base quickly got to work decoding the album, looking for layers of meaning and insight into Ms. Swift’s life. Of course, that includes the pop singer’s romantic history.Like many of her past works, the songs on this album — which features over a dozen additional tracks as part of an extended album called “The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology” — are laden with names and references, many of which appear to be to real people from Ms. Swift’s universe and the literary canon. At least two poets, Dylan Thomas and Patti Smith, are mentioned.Here’s a look at some of those characters.Matty HealyMarcelo Hernandez/Getty ImagesPlenty of lines from “Tortured Poets” have fans guessing that certain songs — including “The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived,” “The Black Dog” and “Down Bad” — may be about Matty Healy, the frontman for the 1975 who was spotted out and about with Taylor on several occasions last spring. One clue Swifties are latching on to: On the “The Black Dog,” Ms. Swift refers to the band the Starting Line. Mr. Healy covered one of the band’s songs while he was touring last spring. And then there is the much-discussed reference to a person Ms. Swift describes as a “tattooed golden retriever” on the album’s title track. Mr. Healy seems to fit the bill, according to her fans.Travis KelceFrank Franklin II/Associated PressMs. Swift’s fans have been floating the notion that the many sports references in the track “The Alchemy” allude to the football player Travis Kelce, the singer’s current boyfriend. “So when I / Touch down, call the amateurs and cut ’em from the team / Ditch the clowns, get the crown, baby, I’m the one to beat,” she sings in the chorus. “Where’s the trophy? / He just comes running over to me,” she adds in the bridge. But there is some debate, with some fans noting that her use of the term “blokes” would seem to imply the song is not about an American. (A winking line about “heroin but this time with an E” has some guessing the song is about Mr. Healy, who has previously spoken about his drug use.)We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Malaysia Halts Festival After Kiss Between The 1975 Members

    The episode comes as rights groups have warned of growing intolerance against lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people in the country, where homosexuality is a crime.Malaysia’s government halted a music festival in the capital, Kuala Lumpur, on Saturday, a day after the frontman of the British pop rock band The 1975 kissed a male bandmate onstage and criticized the country’s anti-L.G.B.T. laws.“There will be no compromise against any party that challenges, disparages and violates Malaysian laws,” Fahmi Fadzil, the country’s communications minister, said on Twitter after meeting the organizers of the Good Vibes Festival, a three-day event set to run until Sunday.The 1975 have also been banned from performing in Malaysia, said a government committee that oversees filming and performances by foreigners.Homosexuality is a crime in Muslim-majority Malaysia. Rights groups have warned of growing intolerance against lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people.In videos posted on social media late on Friday, Matty Healy, the band’s frontman, was seen kissing the bassist, Ross MacDonald, after criticizing Malaysia’s stance against homosexuality in a profanity-laden speech to the festival audience.“I made a mistake,” he said. “When we were booking shows, I wasn’t looking into it.” He added that he did not understand the purpose “of inviting The 1975 to a country and then telling us who we can have sex with.”Mr. Healy later cut short the set, telling the crowd: “All right, we’ve got to go. We just got banned from Kuala Lumpur, I’ll see you later.”The band could not immediately be reached for comment. Mr. Healy had faced criticism for kissing a male fan at a 2019 concert in the United Arab Emirates, which also has laws against homosexual acts, according to news media reports.The festival’s organizer, Future Sound Asia, apologized for the show’s cancellation after Mr. Healy’s “controversial conduct and remarks.” It said The 1975’s management had promised that the band would obey performance guidelines.“Regrettably, Healy did not honor these assurances,” it said in a statement.Mr. Fahmi, the communications minister, said Malaysia was committed to supporting the development of creative industries and freedom of expression.“However, never touch on the sensitivities of the community, especially those that are against the traditions and values ​​of the local culture,” he said.The government in March introduced stricter guidelines, including on dress code and conduct, for foreign acts coming to Malaysia, citing the need to protect sensitivities, the news media reported.Friday’s episode ignited an uproar on Malaysian social media, including among some members of the L.G.B.T. community, who accused Mr. Healy of “performative activism” and said his action was likely to expose the community to more stigma and discrimination.The 1975 are on Sunday scheduled to play at a festival in Jakarta, the capital of Indonesia, the world’s most populous Muslim country, where a recent L.G.B.T. event was canceled amid security threats. More

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    Popcast (Deluxe): Taylor Swift and Matty Healy, Plus ‘The Idol’

    Subscribe to Popcast!Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Stitcher | Amazon MusicThis week’s episode of Popcast (Deluxe), the weekly culture roundup show hosted by Jon Caramanica and Joe Coscarelli, includes segments on:The premiere episode of HBO’s “The Idol,” a maybe(?) satirical psychodrama about a troubled female pop star and the Svengali figure, played by the Weeknd, who worms his way into her orbitNew collaborations from Latto and Cardi B, and Central Cee and DaveRecent developments in Taylor Swift’s world, including blowback from her relationship with Matty Healy of the 1975, and her collaboration with Ice SpiceThe pop music documentary explosion of the last few yearsConnect With Popcast. Become a part of the Popcast community: Join the show’s Facebook group and Discord channel. We want to hear from you! Tune in, and tell us what you think at popcast@nytimes.com. More

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    The Year Pop’s Men Dismantled Their Masculinity

    In 2022, stars including Harry Styles, Jack Harlow and Bad Bunny offered liberated takes on gender, but also risked pandering. Are men OK?In April, during his headlining set at Coachella, the reigning pop prince Harry Styles invited a surprise guest, Shania Twain, to the stage to sing a provocatively chosen duet: “Man, I Feel Like a Woman.”Clad in a low-cut, silver sequined jumpsuit, Styles strutted, twirled and belted out the cheeky anthem’s lyrics. “This lady taught me how to sing,” he told the raucous crowd of over 100,000 when the song was over. “She also taught me that men are trash.”The performance was fun, headline-generating and relatively radical: It is difficult to imagine Styles’s generational predecessor, Justin Timberlake — or even Timberlake’s successor, Justin Bieber — playing so fast and loose with gender roles. That is partially because the Justins embraced hip-hop and R&B — genres where such experimentation is often less welcome — more directly than Styles ever has. But it’s also because the cultural forces that shape the norms and expectations of what a male pop star can and should be are evolving.While the year in music was dominated by a handful of female powerhouses (critically, by Beyoncé’s widely praised dance-floor odyssey “Renaissance” and commercially, by Taylor Swift’s moody synth-pop juggernaut “Midnights”), the top male pop stars — Styles, Bad Bunny and Jack Harlow — all found success while offering refreshingly subversive challenges to old-school masculinity.Styles and Harlow seem cannily aware of how to position themselves as heartthrobs in a cultural moment when being a man — especially one that scans straight and white — can seem like a minefield of potential missteps, offenses and overextended privilege. Bad Bunny, even more subversively, ripped up the English-language pop star’s rule book and offered a more expansive vision of gender and sexuality.Bad Bunny, the Puerto Rican superstar whose summery smash “Un Verano Sin Ti” spent more weeks atop the Billboard chart than any other album this year, has gleefully rejected the confines of machismo. Instead, he has embraced gender-fluid fashion, called out male aggression in his songs and videos and even made out with one of his male backup dancers during a performance at this year’s MTV Video Music Awards — decisions that carry extra weight considering his aesthetic-hopping pop is rooted in reggaeton, a genre that has leaned on heteronormativity.Bad Bunny has gleefully rejected the confines of machismo.Isaac Esquivel/EPA, via ShutterstockStyles, too, has won fans and admirers by treating his gender presentation as something of a playground, whether that means wearing a dress on the cover of “Vogue,” refusing to label his sexuality or flipping the familiar script of the older male auteur/younger female muse in his much publicized relationship with his “Don’t Worry Darling” director Olivia Wilde, who is 10 years his senior. None of it has been bad for business: Styles’s “As It Was” was the year’s longest-reigning Billboard No. 1 and, globally, Spotify’s most-streamed song of 2022.But there’s also an increasingly fine line between allyship and pandering, one that fans aren’t shy about calling out online. Styles and Bad Bunny have been accused of the very contemporary crime of “queerbaiting,” or cultivating a faux mystique around one’s sexuality to appeal to an L.G.B.T.Q. fan base. To overemphasize straightness and alpha-male stereotypes, though, presents its own risks, especially in a post-MeToo moment. What’s a man to do?Harlow, the 24-year-old Kentucky-born rapper, spent 2022 trying to figure it out. A technically dexterous rapper with an easy charisma and a head of Shirley Temple ringlets, Harlow is known for making artistic choices that spotlight his skills and convey his seriousness as an MC. He’s also cultivated a persona as an irrepressible flirt with a particular attraction to Black women. He famously shot his shot with Saweetie on the BET Awards red carpet, repeatedly popped into Doja Cat’s Instagram live broadcasts and even parodied his reputation during a star-turning “Saturday Night Live” hosting gig, when he played himself in a skit that imagined him seducing Whoopi Goldberg on the set of “The View.”Harlow’s music, too, actively cultivates the female listener. As he explained in an interview with The New York Times earlier this year, “I always think about if I was in the car and the girl I had a crush on was in the shotgun and I had to play the song, would I be proud to play the song?”Jack Harlow’s music focuses on a kind of glorification of the female listener.Calla Kessler for The New York TimesThroughout his second album, “Come Home the Kids Miss You,” Harlow paints himself as stylish and sensitive, a man who keeps his nails clean and discusses his romantic encounters in therapy. In the grand tradition of his elder Drake, Harlow often uses the pronoun “you” to directly and intimately address women in his songs. His biggest solo hit to date, “First Class,” which spent three weeks at No. 1 this spring, turned “Glamorous,” Fergie’s blingy 2007 hit about luxury and hard-earned success, into a chivalric invitation for a lady to come enjoy the good life on Harlow’s dime: “I could put you in first class,” he clarified.Stylistically, Harlow’s music is worlds away from Styles’s, but both share a kind of glorification of the female listener, a lyrical attentiveness to her pleasure and a subtle insistence that they are more caring partners than all those other men who, in Styles’s parlance (and on superhumanly empathetic ballads like “Boyfriends” and “Matilda”), are “trash.”In some sense, this is certainly progress. Consider that Timberlake’s early aughts success involved the excessive vilification of his ex Britney Spears, or that a performance that pantomimed a kind of hyper-heterosexual dominance over Janet Jackson had virtually no effect on his career, but nearly ended hers. Harlow’s collaboration with and public support for the gay pop star Lil Nas X and even his fawning over his female peers are worlds away from his predecessor Eminem, who negotiated his complex stance as a white man in a predominantly Black genre by punching down at women and queer people. Misogyny and homophobia aren’t exactly good for business anymore — and thank goodness.It’s hard to imagine these men making the same mistakes as their forebears, and overcorrection is in some sense welcome, given the alternative. (Bad Bunny, again, has taken even bolder risks, like vehemently criticizing the Puerto Rican government in response to island-wide blackouts.)But even responsibly wielded privilege is still, at the end of the day, privilege. And Styles’s and Harlow’s music often betrays that by its relative weightlessness, its sense of existence in a space free of any great existential cares. Styles’s songs in particular seem hollowed out of any introspection; most of the ones on “Harry’s House” pass by like cumulus clouds. The focus of Harlow’s music vacillates between girls and ego, with few gestures toward the riskier political statements he’s made on red carpets (decrying homophobia) and on social media (attending protests demanding justice for Breonna Taylor). That failure to see oneself as part of a larger problem is a symptom of privilege, too. Even if he’s wearing sequins, a man declaring that “men are trash” is just a very subtle way of saying “not all men.” What about the guy saying it?On “Part of the Band,” a moody, verbose single released this year by the British band the 1975, the frontman Matty Healy imagines overhearing a snippet of chitchat between two young women: “I like my men like I like my coffee/Full of soy milk and so sweet it won’t offend anybody.” The implication is that Healy is decidedly not one of those men, and it’s indeed hard to imagine a listener — particularly a non-male one — making it through all 11 tracks of the 1975’s soft-focused “Being Funny in a Foreign Language” without cringing at something Healy says. (Just one example: “I thought we were fighting, but it seems I was ‘gaslighting’ you.” Yeesh.)But in Healy’s musings, there’s something often lacking in Harlow’s or Styles’s music: a genuine sense of self-scrutiny, and an active internal monologue about what it means to be a man at this moment in the 21st century. Healy’s songs are, as the critic Ann Powers put it in an astute essay tracing the cultural lineage of “the dirtbag,” excavations of “the curses and blessings of his gendered existence.” Under his relentless microscope, straight(ish) white masculinity is, blessedly, freed from its status as the default human condition and instead becomes a curiosity to poke and prod at, exposing its internal contradictions and latent anxieties.“Am I ironically woke?” Healy wonders later in “Part of the Band.” “The butt of my joke? Or am I just some post-coke, average, skinny bloke calling his ego imagination?” Cringe if you want. He’s man enough to let the question hang there in the air. 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    The 1975’s Matty Healy Is Still Trying to Be Funny, Sincerely

    The last time the British pop-rock band the 1975 put out an album, it was 2020 and things were messy. Already known for its genre-melting sprawl and the unrestrained chatter of its charismatic frontman Matty Healy, the band released its fourth album — an 80-minute, 22-track saga called “Notes on a Conditional Form” — into a roiling global pandemic, attempting to land all of its tricks at once.Amid the anxiety of Covid and various other apocalypses, the album set its grand tone with an opening song based around a monologue by the teenage climate change activist Greta Thunberg. But soon after its release, Healy was “soft-canceled” — his term — after linking the murder of George Floyd to one of the 1975’s topical songs in a tossed-off Twitter post. As the band and the world were teetering on the edge, Healy was also busy falling in love.Most of that is now behind them. The new 1975 album, “Being Funny in a Foreign Language,” out on Oct. 14, is the group’s most focused to date at just 11 tracks, with most of them sticking to timeless themes and a live-band sound that gestures back to the shimmering 1980s. Pop music’s reigning artisanal super-producer Jack Antonoff joined Healy and his bandmate and songwriting partner George Daniel to produce the album. (The 1975 also includes the guitarist Adam Hann and the bassist Ross MacDonald.)Yet even as Healy, now 33, has tried to rein in his most chaotic impulses, he is still the guy writing lines like: “Am I ironically woke?/The butt of my joke?/Or am I just some post-coke, average, skinny bloke/calling his ego imagination?” Then he dares his audience to flinch by making that song, “Part of the Band,” the album’s opening single.“I empathize with people that are living now,” Healy said.Charlotte Hadden for The New York TimesIn a recent video interview, between the ritual relighting of a sturdy joint, Healy discussed paring back, not selling out and the advantages that come with being in a band with your childhood friends for the past 20 years. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.Did you set out to write your most cohesive album after “Notes,” which was maybe your most unwieldy?The one thing we knew we didn’t want to do was a continuation of whatever we’d just done. But there were so many ideas in that record, what are you going to do? It became about rules, and it took about a year to figure out what the rules were. It went through one period of only using one drum machine — a very minimal, kind of electronic but tiny thing. And then we started hanging out with Jack Antonoff because of conversations with beabadoobee [who is signed to the 1975’s label, Dirty Hit].What ended up being the main rule?It was “Play it and record it.” Real instruments. You can always find something in a computer that can do the job. Let’s just not do that. Everyone can do all of that and no one cares anymore. Fifteen years ago when you heard XXYYXX, you thought, “What are these sounds? He made them on a computer?” Now you know that any kid can make a bedroom thing that sounds crazy. What you can’t do is have been in a band for 20 years and be great players and go into a room and have that freedom.Why was Jack right for this project?He didn’t get paid [laughs]. Well, he did but not like, paid. To be honest with you, dude, when I’m making a record, it’s very personal. I don’t give a [expletive] about what people on Twitter have to say about Jack Antonoff. Because go and have a half-hour conversation about music with that person, then go have a half-hour conversation about music with Jack Antonoff and see which one leaves you feeling more inspired.“We have the cringe rule in the band,” Healy said. “Like, if anything makes any of us cringe, we don’t have to explain why, we just call ‘cringe.’” Charlotte Hadden for The New York TimesI’ve never done anything for clout in my life. It costs a lot of money to be the 1975 and not take all of the offers that we’ve had. We’re not interested in that, we’re just interested in doing what’s best for us. Jack, at that time, was the best thing for the 1975. He gets a reputation for being busy, but what he actually is, is just good. If you met the guy and worked with him, you’d realize why people want to work with him.Since you and Jack both trade in references, what were the touchstones for “Being Funny”?Retrospectively, we’ll tend to go, “Oh, you know what we’re doing there? We’re doing ‘Dream, Baby, Dream,’” or whatever we were going for. When I was trying to perform “Part of the Band” and we had this stabbing string thing, it was quite angular. I couldn’t figure out how to sit on top of it. And then we were like, “‘Street Hassle’ — that’s what it is! Got it.” And I went for that. You know how like “Graceland” is really loose, but really tight? I think those parts of “Still Crazy,” “Graceland” and the Paul Simon influence always comes out in my stuff.And you have to acknowledge my obsession with “All My Friends” by LCD Soundsystem as a song throughout my whole career. The reference is the first thing you hear on the album. Of all the solidarities, generational is probably the weakest, but there’s something about men my age and that song — I think it’s the most requested funeral song. It’s a set of rules and a genre in itself.You’ve written a lot of lyrics over the years with proper nouns, current references and pop-culture allusions. Do you think about how those will age?I really, really do. What you’re talking about is like when Katy Perry says “epic fail” on “Friday Night.” It hits you and takes you out of the world. Sometimes I am scared of doing that. Funny is what I care about. I’m at my best when I’m at my funniest and most observational comedy is topical. But anything forced, it stings or reads as insincere.We have the cringe rule in the band. Like, if anything makes any of us cringe, we don’t have to explain why, we just call “cringe.” And then we can call a debate on that if we want to.You must have a high bar, as a band, for cringe.It’s true. We’re not embarrassed about much. One could criticize me for loads of things, but you can’t criticize me for being insincere. Annoying, whatever. But I’m not insincere. The cringe means insincere. Their attitude is, if you’re going to go there, go there. The only time you’re going to slip up is if you pull the punch a little bit.Other than “I” and “you,” the most common word on this album might be “love.” Did you make an album about falling in love?I think I’ve realized what I do: I write about how we communicate interpersonally in the modern age — mediated by the internet. Love, loss, addiction. That’s what I always do. Every other record has been a bit like, “Love! And me! And this! And that!” I think “Being Funny” is the first time where I’m a bit like, “OK, right, love. Let’s do love.”Healy, now 33, has tried to rein in his most chaotic impulses — to a point.Charlotte Hadden for The New York TimesThe hangover that I have from all of the postmodernism of my previous work and the past 50 years of culture is the irony as a shield. I can’t be bothered doing that right now and I can’t be bothered listening to people do it. I’m just looking for the truth. All those tropes of being nihilistic and sexy and drug-addled and all those kinds of things, that’s very cool and maybe appropriate in your 20s, but it’s going to make way for a more personally and socially forgiving set of values.You’re one of the best contemporary writers — especially outside of rap — on the process of consumption, whether it’s drugs or culture or goods. Where are you with your sobriety journey as a lyrical subject?I find sobriety, like drugs — if it’s your personality, it’s very boring. I’ve struggled with sobriety as a persona. They call this “California sober,” right? I smoke weed and I don’t do anything else. I’ve managed to get to a place where I know nobody around me is particularly worried about me running off and scoring. So I think it’s becoming a smaller part of my writing as it becomes a smaller part of my life.Are you ever consciously trying to write like a rapper?I’m like Mr. Cultural Reference, but I’ve got so many that it’s very difficult to see what my actual DNA is. I’m not very inspired by writers. I never really think about that. I think about comedy a lot — jokes, how they work, how much fat they have on them. But when I first heard the Streets I was like, OK. He kind of said, if you are searching for an identity that is kind of an identity in itself. The way that I rhyme — the Streets is the biggest influence and then maybe Paul Simon.So still rhythmic and wordy.“Sincerity Is Scary,” “So Far (It’s Alright),” “The Birthday Party” — I always call them long-form songs. Long-form songs to me means where I’ve got a long rhythmical phrase where I can get a lot out. I find these songs, the ones that actually seem cleverer, a lot easier to write. People have spoken about me rapping and I’ve never really thought about it as rap. But I think it’s because the Streets gave me license to think about rhyming rhythmically with an English accent as being quite an English thing.What are your commercial ambitions these days? Do you think it would be fun for the 1975 to have a No. 1 hit or a TikTok moment?It’s difficult to be big and say — genuinely — that I have zero commercial ambition. There’s definitely a “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” kind of thing, which is where, listen, we’ve never known what to do and we’ve never tried to do anything. So the second we stop doing that, we’ll probably [expletive] up. I tend to say no to stuff for money.I don’t know how you can write this up without it being rude or inappropriate, but I just got offered a four-month tour next year of stadiums with the biggest singer-songwriter in the world that would’ve made me money that I’ve never even seen or heard of in my life.“I think I’ve realized what I do: I write about how we communicate interpersonally in the modern age — mediated by the internet. Love, loss, addiction. That’s what I always do.”Charlotte Hadden for The New York TimesEd Sheeran?Yeah. And I got offered to be main support and do whatever I want. Think about the money you think I’m getting offered — it’s not just offered, it’s what he can afford because of what he makes for shows — and then just triple it. It’s insane. The thing that’s stopped me just doing that is because — I don’t care. It’s not worth it. Not because I don’t like Ed Sheeran. I think he’s, in a lot of ways, a genius. And he does what he does better than anybody else. But opening up for somebody and not just being real, that’s the kind of stuff I think about.The album is also sprinkled with lyrics about your so-called cancellations. How do you look back on that part of 2020, both for yourself and in general?To be honest, the one thing that annoyed me a little bit when I finished the record, after I’d done the last song, “When We Are Together,” that had this “canceled” line in it, I realized, “There’s too many ‘canceled’ lines. That’s going to be a thing that people think I’m really bothered about.”I was soft-canceled, you know? Also canceling isn’t a thing. If you do something criminal and loads of people find out about it, that’s not being canceled. That’s just what happens now if you’re a criminal. Saying something and people trying to censor you, whatever.The deletion of my Twitter was not because I was scared. I was mainly like, I’m just about to start writing about this culture war, and I feel like I’m being made a pawn in it. All it’s going to do is debase my ability to make points with context. And the context that I have and that I own is my music.The refrain of the first song on the album is, “I’m sorry if you’re living and you’re 17.” What are you sorry for?I mean, you know what I mean. I empathize with people that are living now. I used to make the joke that on the first two records the 1975 was like the apocalyptic sense of being a teenager in a major key. I was talking about, like John Hughes’s apocalyptic sense of being a teenager where the future seemed so enormous that you couldn’t deal with it. And then we just essentially took away the future of the 17-year-old brain.I just feel sorry for kids that are drowning in whatever: self-hatred, the burdens of social media, even wokeness. All of these things that are just vessels for people to feel better about how [expletive] their life is. I am genuinely sorry if you are having to think about this [expletive] that I’m thinking about at 17 years old. That’s not cool. More

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    Carly Rae Jepsen’s Brand-New Boy Problems, and 7 More New Songs

    Hear tracks by DJ Khaled featuring Drake and Lil Baby, Panda Bear & Sonic Boom, the 1975 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.Carly Rae Jepsen, ‘Beach House’Boy problems? Carly Rae Jepsen’s got them in spades on “Beach House,” a cheeky earworm from her forthcoming album “The Loneliest Time.” Jepsen employs her deadpan sense of humor as she lists off the red flags and deal-breakers that marred relationships with “Boy No. 1” to “Boy No. I Can’t Keep Count Anymore.” Amid all the silliness, though (“I got a beach house in Malibu,” one prospect tells her, “and I’m probably gonna hurt your feelings”), the song effectively taps into the romantic frustration of endless, “Groundhog Day”-esque first dates and long-term singledom: “I’ve been on this ride, this roller coaster’s a carousel,” Jepsen sings on the anguished pre-chorus, “And I’m getting nowhere.” LINDSAY ZOLADZDJ Khaled featuring Drake and Lil Baby, ‘Staying Alive’A quizzically melancholic opening salvo from the upcoming DJ Khaled album “God Did,” “Staying Alive” nods casually to the Bee Gees on the way to somewhere far less ecstatic. In this construction, staying alive is an act of defiance, not exuberance. Drake bemoans “This life that allow me to take what I want/it’s not like I know what I want,” while in the video, he plays a doctor smoking hookah in the hospital and absently signing off on charts of patients who might need some help achieving the song’s title. JON CARAMANICABenny Blanco, BTS and Snoop Dogg, ‘Bad Decisions’Equally unimaginative as the BTS English-language breakthrough hit “Dynamite” but somehow less cloying, this collaboration benefits from the grandfatherly presence of Snoop Dogg, who at this stage of his career always raps as if his eyebrow is arched, and he can’t quite believe what he’s called upon to do either. CARAMANICAThe 1975, ‘Happiness’“Happiness,” the latest single from the eclectic British pop group the 1975, manages to sound both sleek and a little spontaneous; the dense, ’80s-inspired production gleams but there’s always enough air circulating to keep the atmosphere well ventilated. The frontman Matty Healy sounds uncharacteristically laid back here, trading in his usual arch, hyper-referential lyrics for simpler sentiments: “Show me your love, why don’t you?” he croons on an ecstatic chorus that’s catchy without feeling overdetermined. The video, directed by Samuel Bradley, is a hoot, finding the group mugging in all variety of louche, gorgeously lit environments — basically the visual equivalent of the lush saxophone solo that drops in the middle of the song. ZOLADZBandmanrill, ‘Real Hips’A surprisingly luscious and nimble offering from the Newark rapper Bandmanrill that makes plain the through lines that connect drill music, Jersey club and bass music. CARAMANICAPanda Bear & Sonic Boom, ‘Edge of the Edge’Fans of Panda Bear’s beloved 2007 album “Person Pitch” will likely enjoy the sunny, collagelike “Edge of the Edge,” which will appear on “Reset,” the Animal Collective member’s collaborative album with Spacemen 3’s Sonic Boom, out next week. “Edge of the Edge” pairs a playful sample of the doo-wop group Randy & the Rainbows’ 1963 hit “Denise” with Panda’s serenely melodic vocals, which cut through the carefree, pop-psychedelic vibe with some light social critique: “Can’t say it’s what you bargained for,” he sings, wagging a finger at the frenzied escalation of technology, “It’s forever at the push of a button.” The song, in opposition, sounds contentedly off the grid. ZOLADZBonny Light Horseman, ‘Exile’The voices of Eric D. Johnson and Anaïs Mitchell entwine beautifully on “Exile,” the opening track from the folk trio Bonny Light Horseman’s upcoming second album “Rolling Golden Holy.” The song is a duet in the truest emotional sense, as Mitchell swoops in to finish some of Johnson’s lines and, on the chorus, provides a warm, glowing harmony that meets his lonely plea, “I don’t wanna live in exile.” ZOLADZYoungBoy Never Broke Again featuring Rod Wave, ‘Home Ain’t Home’The two loneliest howlers in hip-hop unite for a meditation on the joylessness of fame. CARAMANICA More