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    2022: The Songs of the Year

    Subscribe to Popcast!Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Stitcher | Amazon MusicIt’s easier than ever to disagree on the best songs of the year — there is simply so much music to consume, and weighing it all against each other feels increasingly futile.But there was some — OK, a little — consensus among The New York Times pop music critics this year. Well, mainly just Ice Spice. But the lists also are broad and deep, including cuts from Cardi B, Beyoncé, Residente, Ethel Cain, Mitski, NewJeans, Tyler ICU, Lil Kee, Aldous Harding, Stromae and many more.On this week’s Popcast, a conversation about the songs of the year, and the sometimes unusual places they appeared.Guests:Jon Pareles, The New York Times’s chief pop music criticLindsay Zoladz, a pop music critic for The New York TimesConnect 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. Follow our host, Jon Caramanica, on Twitter: @joncaramanica. More

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    Best Songs of 2022

    Seventy-two tracks that identify, grapple with or simply dance away from the anxieties of yet another uncertain year.Jon Pareles’s Top 25Full disclosure: There can’t be a definitive list of best songs — only a sampling of what any one listener, no matter how determined, can find the time to hear in the course of a year. For discovery’s sake, my list rules out the (excellent) songs on my favorite albums of the year, and it’s designed more like a playlist than a countdown or a ranking. Feel free to switch to shuffle.1. Residente featuring Ibeyi, ‘This Is Not America’Backed by implacable Afro-Caribbean drumming and Ibeyi’s vocal harmonies, the Puerto Rican rapper Residente defines America as the entire hemisphere, while he furiously denounces historical and ongoing abuses.2. The Smile, ‘The Opposite’Thom Yorke of Radiohead — in a side project, the Smile — wonders, “What will become of us?” Prodded by a funky beat and pelted by staggered, syncopated guitar and bass notes, he can’t expect good news.3. Wilco, ‘Bird Without a Tail/Base of My Skull’With Wilco picking and strumming like a string band, Jeff Tweedy spins a free-associative fable about elemental forces of life and death, leading into a brief but probing jam that reunites country and psychedelia.4. Rema featuring Selena Gomez, ‘Calm Down’The crisply flirtatious “Calm Down,” by the Nigerian singer Rema, was already a major African hit when Selena Gomez added her voice for a remix. He’s confident, she’s inviting — at least for the moment — and the Afrobeats syncopation promises a good time.5. Emiliana Torrini and the Colorist Orchestra, ‘Right Here’A plinking Minimalist pulse and a deft chamber-pop arrangement carry the Icelandic songwriter Emiliana Torrini through fond thoughts of hard-won but durable domestic stability.Thom Yorke, left, and Jonny Greenwood of the Smile performing at Usher Hall in Edinburgh in June. The band also includes the drummer Tom Skinner.Roberto Ricciuti/Redferns, via Getty Images6. Lucrecia Dalt, ‘Atemporal’“Atemporal” (“Timeless”) is from “Ay!,” Lucrecia Dalt’s heady concept album about time, physicality and love. It’s a lurching bolero that dovetails lo-fi nostalgia with vaudeville horns and an electronically skewed sense of space.7. Burna Boy, ‘Last Last’The Nigerian superstar Burna Boy juggles regrets, justifications and resentments as he sings about a romance wrecked by career pressures, drawing nervous momentum out of a strumming, fluttering sample from Toni Braxton.8. Aldous Harding, ‘Lawn’The tone is airy: unassuming piano chords; a high, naïve voice; a singsong melody. But in one of Aldous Harding’s least cryptic lyrics, she is trying to put the best face on a confusing breakup.9. Madison Cunningham, ‘Our Rebellion’Madison Cunningham sings, wryly and fondly, about an opposites-attract relationship in a tricky, virtuosic tangle of guitar lines.10. Big Thief, ‘Simulation Swarm’Adrianne Lenker’s wispy voice belies the visionary ambition — and ambiguity — of her lyrics. So does the way the band, not always in tune, cycles through four understated folk-rock chords, swerving occasionally into a bridge. It’s a love song with a backdrop of war and transformation, delivered like a momentary glimpse into something much vaster.11. Margo Price, ‘Lydia’Somewhere between folk-rock plaint and short story, Margo Price sings about a pregnant woman at a clinic, with a hard-luck past and a tough decision to make.12. Ice Spice, ‘Munch (Feelin’ U)’Cool, fast, precise and merciless, the Bronx rapper Ice Spice dispatches a hapless suitor by designating him as a new slang word: “munch.”13. Jamila Woods, ‘Boundaries’Mixing a suave bossa nova with a tapping, stubbornly resistant cross-rhythm, Jamila Woods neatly underlines the ambivalence she sings about, as she ponders just how close she wants someone to get.14. Stromae featuring Camila Cabello, ‘Mon Amour’The cheerful lilt of Stromae’s “Mon Amour” is camouflage for the increasingly threadbare rationalizations of a compulsive cheater; he gets his comeuppance when Camila Cabello asserts her own freedom to fool around.15. Giveon, ‘Lie Again’Giveon floats in a jealous limbo, hoping not to be exposed to hard truths. His voice is a baritone croon with an electronic penumbra, in a track that hints at old soul translated into ghostly electronics.16. Tyler ICU featuring Nkosazana Daughter, Kabza De Small and DJ Maphorisa, ‘Inhliziyo’No fewer than three leading producers of amapiano, the patient, midtempo South African club style, collaborated on “Inhliziyo” (“Heart”), creating haunted open spaces for the South African singer and songwriter Nkosazana Daughter to quietly lament a heartbreak.The Nigerian star Burna Boy addresses the challenges of balancing a relationship with his growing career on “Last Last.”Ferdy Damman/EPA, via Shutterstock17. Tinashe, ‘Something Like a Heartbreak’Nothing feels entirely solid in this song: not Tinashe’s breathy vocals, not the beat that flickers in and out of the mix, not the hovering tones that only sketch the chords. But in the haze, she realizes, “You don’t deserve my love,” and she moves on.18. Jessie Reyez, ‘Mutual Friend’Revenge arrives with cool fury over elegant, vintage-soul strings as Jessie Reyez makes clear that someone is definitely not getting a second chance.19. 070 Shake, ‘Web’Danielle Balbuena — the songwriter and producer who records as 070 Shake — overdubbed herself as a full-scale choir in “Web,” a pandemic-era reaction to the gap between onscreen and physical interaction. She wants carnality in real time, insisting, “Let’s be here in person.”20. Holly Humberstone, ‘Can You Afford to Lose Me?’In an ultimatum carried by a stately crescendo of keyboards, Holly Humberstone reminds a partner who’s threatening to leave just how much she has already put up with.21. Brian Eno, ‘There Were Bells’“There Were Bells” contemplates the slow-motion cataclysm of global warming as an elegy and a warning, with edgeless, tolling sounds and a mournful melody as Brian Eno sings about the destruction no one will escape.22. Caroline Polachek, ‘Billions’Is it love or capitalism? Caroline Polachek sings with awe-struck sweetness — and touches of hyperpop processing — against an otherworldly backdrop that incorporates electronics, tabla drumming and string sections, at once intimate and abstract.23. Stormzy, ‘Firebabe’In a wedding-ready, hymnlike ballad, Stormzy sings modestly and adoringly about a love at first sight that he intends to last forever.24. Hagop Tchaparian, ‘Right to Riot’A blunt four-on-the-floor thump might just be the least aggressive part of “Right to Riot” from the British Armenian musician Hagop Tchaparian, which also brandishes traditional sounds — six-beat drumming and the snarl of the double-reed zurna — and zapping, woofer-rattling electronics as it builds.25. Oren Ambarchi, ‘I’The first section of an album-length piece, “Shebang,” by the composer Oren Ambarchi, is a consonant hailstorm of staccato guitar notes, picked and looped, manipulated and layered, emerging as melodies and rejoining the ever-more-convoluted mesh.Jon Caramanica’s Top 22There are plenty of ways to try out something new — fooling around with your friends, tossing off a casual but not careless experiment, disappearing so deeply into a feeling that you forget form altogether.1. GloRilla featuring Cardi B, ‘Tomorrow 2’Kay Flock featuring Cardi B, Dougie B and Bory300, ‘Shake It’It was a great year for the Cardi B booster plan. Like Drake before her, she is an attentive listener and a seven-figure trend forecaster, as captured in these two cousin-like feature appearances. “Shake It” is as credible a drill song as a non-drill performer has yet made — Cardi’s verse is pugnacious and tart. And “Tomorrow 2,” with its big BFF energy, helps continue construction of a new pathway for female allyship in hip-hop.2. Ice Spice, ‘Munch (Feelin’ U)’Ice Spice is a gleefully patient rapper. On “Munch,” she pulls off a perfectly balanced tug of war between neg-heavy seduction and the affect of being utterly unbothered.3. Bailey Zimmerman, ‘Rock and a Hard Place’The trick of this catalog of a couple’s catastrophic collapse is that the arrangement never lets on that the circumstances are dire, but atop it, Bailey Zimmerman sings like he’s narrating a boxing match.4. Lil Yachty, ‘Poland’A non-song. A koan. A cry from beneath the ravenous eddies. A memory bubbling up from repression. A tractor beam. A stunt. A hopeful warble. A promise of infinite tomorrows.5. The Dare, ‘Girls’Epically silly and epically debauched, “Girls” marks a return(?) of quasi(?)-electroclash(?), but, more pointedly, is a reminder of the perennial power of lust, sweat and arch eroticism.Cardi B didn’t put out a lot of her own music in 2022, but she showed up in a savvy selection of features.Mario Anzuoni/Reuters6. Sadie Jean, ‘WYD Now? (10 Minute Version) [Open Verse Mashup]’The logical endpoint of the TikTok duet trend: one extended posse-cut version aggregating everyone’s labor into a lofi-beats-to-study-to forever loop. The wooden spoon provides.7. Lil Kee, ‘Catch a Murder’From his arresting debut mixtape “Letter 2 My Brother,” a caustic and bleak pledge of revenge from the Lil Baby affiliate Lil Kee, who sing-raps as if in a trance of menace.8. Cam’ron, Funk Flex #Freestyle171Another year, another casual calisthenics lesson from Cam’ron, the last avatar of the intricately economical style that dominated Harlem rap in the ’90s and remains staggering to observe.9. Yahritza y Su Esencia, ‘Soy El Unico’The first song Yahritza Martinez wrote — at age 13 — was “Soy El Unico,” a defiantly sad retort from a discarded partner to the discarder that pairs the groundedness of Mexican folk music with a vocal delivery inflected with hip-hop and R&B.10. Kate Gregson-MacLeod, ‘Complex (Demo)’This song began life as viral melancholy on TikTok, a brief portrait of someone stuck in the gravitational pull of a person who doesn’t deserve their care. The finished song is desolate but resilient, a hell of a plaint.11. NewJeans, ‘Cookie’Most striking about “Cookie,” the best song from the debut EP by the impressive young K-pop girl group NewJeans, is its ease — no maximalism, no theater. Simply a cheerful extended metaphor over an updated take on the club-oriented R&B of a couple of decades ago, finished off with a tasteful Jersey club breakdown.12. Jack Harlow featuring Drake, ‘Churchill Downs’The student befriends the teacher. Both drop out for a life of partying, followed by self-reflection, followed by more partying.13. Ethel Cain, ‘American Teenager’Midwest emo as refracted through Southeastern parchedness under a filter of radio pop-rock, delivering devastating sentiment about the emptiness of the American dream and the hopelessness of those subject to its whims.Ethel Cain turns a critical eye on the American dream with her debut album, “Preacher’s Daughter.”Irina Rozovsky for The New York Times14. Joji, ‘Glimpse of Us’You OK, bro?15. Delaney Bailey, ‘J’s Lullaby (Darlin’ I’d Wait for You)’One long ache about the one who’s slipping away: “Darlin’, I wish that you could give me some more time/To herd the whole sky in my arms/And release it when you’re mine.”16. Muni Long, ‘Another’Luscious, indignant, scolding.17. Romeo Santos featuring Rosalía, ‘El Pañuelo’Two traditionalists at heart, each feeling out the outer boundaries of their appetite for risk while still honoring what the other can’t quite do.18. Hitkidd featuring Aleza, Gloss Up, Slimeroni and K Carbon, ‘Shabooya’Roll-call rap that bridges the early ’80s to the early ’20s, with a cadre of Memphis women reveling in filth and sass.19. Kidd G featuring YNW BSlime, ‘Left Me’Lil Durk featuring Morgan Wallen, ‘Broadway Girls’What is hip-hop to country music these days? A source of vocal inspiration? A place for experimentation? Close kin? Safe harbor?20. Fireboy DML and Ed Sheeran, ‘Peru’The globe-dominating update of the Fireboy DML solo hit features bright seduction delivered with jaunty rhythm from Ed Sheeran.Lindsay Zoladz’s Top 25Anxiety abounds in this modern world, and music is one surefire way to process it — or maybe, for a few minutes at a time, to escape from it. The songs on this list consider both options.1. Hurray for the Riff Raff, ‘Life on Earth’Conventional wisdom tells us that life is short, time flies and there are never enough hours in the day. But Alynda Segarra takes the long view on this elegiac, piano-driven hymn: “Rivers and lakes/And floods and earthquakes/Life on Earth is long.” As it progresses at its own unhurried tempo, the song, remarkably, seems to slow down time, or at least zoom out until it becomes something geological rather than selfishly human-centric. The thick haze of climate grief certainly hangs over the track (“And though I might not meet you there, leaving it beyond repair”) but its lingering effect is one of generosity and spaciousness, inspiring a fresh appreciation for the interconnectedness of all things.2. The 1975, ‘Happiness’Matty Healy, the gregarious leader of the British pop group the 1975, is rarely at a loss for words, but on the supremely catchy “Happiness,” infatuation leaves him tongue-tied: “My, my, my, oh/My, my, my, you.” Ultimately, though, the song becomes an ode to giving oneself over to forces beyond control: like love, the unknown or maybe just the groove — particularly the loose, sparkling atmosphere the band taps into here.3. Beyoncé, ‘Alien Superstar’The moon is a disco ball and it orbits around Beyoncé on this commanding dance-floor banger, a studied but lived-in ode to ball culture and Afrofuturism. Like the rest of the remarkable “Renaissance,” the song’s focus flickers constantly from the individual to the collective, as Beyoncé’s braggadocious boasts of being No. 1, the only one, share space with her exhortations to find that unicorn energy within: “Unique, that’s what you are,” she intones regally, before a transcendent finale in which the song takes flight on a Funkadelic spaceship of its own making.4. Amanda Shires, ‘Take It Like a Man’The melody keeps ascending to nervy, dangerous heights, like a high-wire walk without a net: “I know the cost of flight is landing,” Amanda Shires sings on this imagistic torch song, trilling like some newly discovered species of bird. The title is playfully provocative, but it takes a twist in the song’s final lyric, when Shires proclaims, “I know I can take it like … Amanda” — a fitting finale for such a singular song of self.Amanda Shires makes a strong statement on “Take It Like a Man,” also the name of her latest album.Eric Ryan Anderson for The New York Times5. Taylor Swift, ‘Anti-Hero’Rejoice, you who have suffered through “Look What You Made Me Do,”“Me!” and even “Cardigan”: For the first time in nearly a decade, Taylor Swift has picked the correct lead single. “Anti-Hero” is one of the high points of Swift’s ongoing collaboration with the producer Jack Antonoff: The phrasing is chatty but not overstuffed, the synthesizers underline Swift’s emotions rather than obscuring them and the insecurities feel like genuine transmissions from Swift’s somnambulant psyche. Prospective daughters-in-law, you’ve been warned.6. Rosalía, ‘Despechá’Rosalía, smacking her gum, eyebrows raised, one hand on an exaggeratedly cocked hip: That’s the attitude, and this is its soundtrack. “Despechá” — abbreviated slang for spiteful — is a lighter-than-air, mambo-nodding dance-floor anthem, and an invitation to join the ranks of the Motomamis. As always, she makes pop perfection sound as easy as A-B-C.7. Pusha T, ‘Diet Coke’Pusha T, is, as ever, part rap-poet and part insult comic on the razor-sharp “Diet Coke,” bending language to his will and laughing his enemies right out of the V.I.P. room: “You ordered Diet Coke — that’s a joke, right?”8. Chloe Moriondo, ‘Fruity’“Fruity,” like the best hyperpop, is an anarchic affront to refinement and restraint, an ever-escalating blast of melodic delirium and warped excess. It’s a sugar rush, it’s brain-freeze-inducing, it’s recommended by zero out of 10 dentists. Turn it up loud.9. Yeah Yeah Yeahs featuring Perfume Genius, ‘Spitting off the Edge of the World’Yeah Yeah Yeahs grow elegantly into their role as art-rock elders here, not just by slowing to a tempo as confidently glacial as the Cure’s “Plainsong,” but by placing a spotlight on the existential dread of the next generation. “Mama, what have you done?” Karen O sings, channeling the voice of a frightened child. “I trace your steps in the darkness of one/Am I what’s left?”10. Grace Ives, ‘Lullaby’Grace Ives makes music of interiority, chronicling the liminal moments of her day when she’s by herself, daydreaming: “I hear the neighbors sing ‘Love Galore,’ I do a split on the kitchen floor,” goes the charming “Lullaby,” a passionately sung, welcoming invitation into her world.11. Weyes Blood, ‘It’s Not Just Me, It’s Everybody’The pandemic left many people isolated in their own heads, questioning their perceptions, feeling disconnected from a larger whole. The clarion-voiced Natalie Mering has written a soothing anthem for all those lost souls in the emotionally generous “It’s Not Just Me, It’s Everybody”; its title alone is an offering of solace and sanity.12. Florence + the Machine, ‘Free’A bass line buzzes like a live wire, snaking continuously through this exorcism of anxiety. “The feeling comes so fast, and I cannot control it,” Florence Welch wails as if possessed, but she eventually finds her catharsis in the music itself: “For a moment, when I’m dancing, I am free.”13. Ice Spice, ‘Munch (Feelin’ U)’“I’m walking past him, he sniffing my breeze,” the rising star Ice Spice spits expeditiously on this unbothered anthem; before he can even process the insult, she’s gone.14. Drake, ‘Down Hill’A sparse palette from 40 — finger snaps, moody synth washes, light Afrobeats vibes — gives Drake plenty of room to explore his melancholy on this standout from the welcome left turn “Honestly, Nevermind.”15. Alex G, ‘Miracles’An aching, bittersweet meditation on the holiness of the everyday, and an expression of intimacy from one of indie rock’s most mysterious, and best, songwriters.16. Carly Rae Jepsen, ‘Western Wind’The one-time “Call Me Maybe” ingénue shows off a breezier and more mature side, as impressionistic production from Rostam Batmanglij helps her conjure California sunshine.17. Mitski, ‘Stay Soft’“You stay soft, get eaten — only natural to harden up,” Mitski sings on this sleek but deceptively vulnerable pop song, as her voice, fittingly, oscillates between icy cool and wrenching ardor.Drake takes a refreshing swerve into dance music with the songs on “Honestly, Nevermind.”Prince Williams/Wireimage, via Getty Images18. Miranda Lambert, ‘Strange’Down is up and wrong is right in this topsy-turvy, tumbleweed-blown country rocker, on which a wizened Miranda Lambert sings like a woman who’s seen it all: “Pick a string, sing the blues, dance a hole in your shoes, do anything to keep you sane.”19. Plains, ‘Problem With It’Katie Crutchfield, better known as Waxahatchee, embraces her twang and her Alabama upbringing on this collaboration with the Texas-born singer-songwriter Jess Williamson; the result is a feisty, ’90s-nodding country-pop gem.20. Charli XCX, ‘Constant Repeat’“I’m cute and I’m rude with kinda rare attitude,” she boasts on the best song from her aerodynamic “Crash” — a top-tier lyric befitting some next-level Charli.21. Alvvays, ‘Belinda Says’As in Belinda Carlisle, whom the Alvvays frontwoman Molly Rankin addresses at the climactic moment of this blissfully moody song: “Heaven is a place on Earth, well so is hell.” Towering waves of shoegaze-y guitars accentuate her melancholy and give the song an emotional pull as elemental as a tide.22. Jessie Ware, ‘Free Yourself’A thumping, glittery one-off single from the British musician finds her continuing in the vein of her 2020 disco reinvention “What’s Your Pleasure?” and proving that she’s still finding fresh inspiration from that sound.23. Koffee, ‘Pull Up’The Jamaican upstart Koffee has a contagious positivity about her, and this reggae-pop earworm is an effortless encapsulation of her spirit.24. Anaïs Mitchell, ‘Little Big Girl’“No one ever told you it would be like this: You keep on getting older, but you feel just like a little kid,” the folk musician Anaïs Mitchell sings on this moving standout from her first solo album in a decade, which poignantly chronicles the emotions of a demographic drastically underexplored in popular music: women at midlife.25. The Weather Station, ‘Endless Time’“It’s only the end of an endless time,” Tamara Lindeman sings in a mirror-fogging exhale, eulogizing a whole host of things taken for granted — love, happiness, the inhabitability of Earth — expressing a fragile, and very human, disbelief that they won’t last forever. More

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    The Songs That Get Us Through It

    Mitski moved to Nashville. She’s not quite sure why, because she didn’t really know anyone there, but she liked how specifically weird it was — a town with stories. A local businessman had recently died and left his substantial estate to his Border collie. Bachelorette parties were a surreal and ever-present cottage industry: “There’s always a woman crying on the street and five other women in matching T-shirts comforting her,” as Mitski put it to me. “It feels like such a good place to observe the human condition.” More

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    Mitski Is More Than TikTok

    Mitski moved to Nashville. She’s not quite sure why, because she didn’t really know anyone there, but she liked how specifically weird it was — a town with stories. A local businessman had recently died and left his substantial estate to his Border collie. Bachelorette parties were a surreal and ever-present cottage industry: “There’s always a woman crying on the street and five other women in matching T-shirts comforting her,” as Mitski put it to me. “It feels like such a good place to observe the human condition.” More

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    Mitski, in and Out of the Spotlight

    Subscribe to Popcast!Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Stitcher“Laurel Hell,” the new album by the beloved indie-rock singer-songwriter Mitski, continues her shift toward a focus on pop — a move that feels somewhat at odds with the general reluctance she displays in almost every other aspect of being a performer.Over the past several years, Mitski has been circumspect in regards to discussing her personal life in interviews. She avoids many trappings of emergent celebrity. And yet she has a fervent fan base for her emotionally raw songs, and she has become something of a meme, a vessel used by other people to feel deeply, or talk about feeling deeply. (This week, “Laurel Hell” debuted at No. 5 on the Billboard 200 chart.)On this week’s Popcast, a conversation about Mitski’s turn toward bigger sounds, her tug of war relationship with fame, and her relationship with her fans and the press.Guests:E. Alex Jung, features writer at New York magazine and VultureCat Zhang, assistant editor at PitchforkConnect 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. Follow our host, Jon Caramanica, on Twitter: @joncaramanica. More

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    Mitski Steps Back Into the Darkness

    On her new album, “Laurel Hell,” the singer-songwriter delves into electronics and ambivalence.“Let’s step carefully into the dark,” Mitski sings to begin her new album, “Laurel Hell,” and continues, “Once we’re in I’ll remember my way around.”Strategic, sure-footed, vulnerable and prepared to face all sorts of trouble: That sums up Mitski’s songwriting as it has unfolded on the albums she has been making since she was a music student in 2012. Over the decade she has chronicled yearnings, frustrations, messy romances, the life of a performer and the persistence of doubts and questions. Along the way, her music has moved through piano-centered orchestral pop, guitar-driven indie-rock and, with “Be the Cowboy” in 2018, a willingness to try for pop bangers.On “Laurel Hell,” Mitski takes just half a step back from that extroversion. The new album is largely electronic and inward-looking, filled with a pandemic-era sense of isolation, regret and reassessment. Yet Mitski doesn’t entirely reject pop gloss, especially when she can give it an ironic twist. The album cover shows her dressed in red with bold crimson lipstick, laying back with her eyes closed in an expression that could be ecstasy or torment.Mitski’s new songs grapple with depression, uncertainty, dependence and separation; she’s constantly observing and interrogating herself. Her melodies are long-breathed and deliberate, sung with calm determination, while the arrangements, largely constructed by Mitski and her longtime producer Patrick Hyland, veer between austere, exposed meditations and perky, danceable propulsion.As Mitski contemplates risks taken and lessons learned, her ambivalences are fine-tuned. A disco march laced with firm piano chords and blippy synthesizers carries her through “Stay Soft” as she counsels, “Open up your heart/Like the gates of hell,” then declares, “You stay soft, get beaten/Only natural to harden up.” In “The Only Heartbreaker” — the album’s one co-written song, by Mitski and Dan Wilson (who has also collaborated with Adele, Taylor Swift and the Chicks) — the kind of upbeat, pulsing neo-1980s production lately favored by the Weeknd pumps along as she promises to accept any blame for a failing relationship. “I apologize, you forgive me,” she sings while the chord progression climbs; is it elevating her or drowning her?Throughout “Laurel Hell,” Mitski, now 31, both misses and rejects her youthful naïveté. In “Working for the Knife,” she struggles to pull herself out of a creative block, over sustained synthesizer tones, a trudging beat and gusts of spaghetti-western guitar: “I always thought the choice was mine,” she sings, “And I was right, but I just chose wrong.”In the stark “Everyone,” her voice floats above an impassive, ticking drum-machine beat and doggedly repeating synthesizer notes, while Mitski admits that she defied everyone’s advice. Instead, “I opened my arms wide to the dark/I said take it all, whatever you want,” only to find later that she can’t escape. The same desperation suffuses “Heat Lightning,” with droning guitars and muffled drums backing a desperate confession: “There’s nothing I can do, not much I can change/I give it up to you, I surrender.” And in the brief but telling “I Guess,” Mitski mourns the loss of a lifelong companion over hazy, tolling keyboard chords; her vocal melody wanders in and out of dissonance, as if the outside world is oblivious to her sorrow.Mitski deploys a full pop arsenal in “Love Me More.” Its title is concise and hook-ready; the track has a brisk beat and sturdy major chords, and when the chorus arrives, the drums kick harder while cascading piano chords and glittery synthesizers surround her like a barrage from a confetti cannon. But the music’s confidence utterly belies the raw longing in the lyrics. She’s trying to discover the will to go on, fighting anxiety, wondering how everyone else gets through “another day to come, then another day to come,” and begging for someone who can “drown it out, drown me out.” All of her musical command can’t stave off the dark.Mitski“Laurel Hell”(Dead Oceans) More

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    Tame Impala’s Disco-Prog Shrug, and 9 More New Songs

    Hear tracks by Alice Glass, Jean Dawson and Mac DeMarco, Girlpool 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.Tame Impala, ‘No Choice’“No Choice” sums up the stasis of the pandemic: limited mobility, boredom, yearning, questioning, resignation. To be released as part of the expanded version of Tame Impala’s 2020 album, “The Slow Rush,” it’s one of Kevin Parker’s era-straddling solo productions: disco drums and percussion, prog-rock phasing on his voice, a guitar solo that sounds like Ernie Isley in the 1970s and lyrics that wonder, “What are we living for?” JON PARELESAlice Glass, ‘Fair Game’A listener doesn’t have to be aware of Alice Glass’s own story to recognize the crescendo of psychological manipulation — humiliation disguised as sympathy — in “Fair Game.” “I’m just trying to help you,” Glass deadpans in a little-girl coo alongside assessments like “You screw up everything” and “I’m so embarrassed for us.” A deep industrial thump, Gothic choir harmonies and a screamed backup refrain — “Where would you be without me?” — make clear that it’s actually a hellscape. PARELESJean Dawson and Mac DeMarco, ‘Menthol’The pop-punk revival of 2021 is alive in the melodic, middle-finger yelps of Jean Dawson, the genre crusher behind “Menthol” who was raised on the border between the United States and Mexico. This is gritted-teeth pop-punk, music for cheap cigs and driving with too many friends in the car. There is angsty precocity here, sure, but signs of versatility, too: Halfway through the track, Dawson takes a pause from screaming into the mic and melds his voice into a lonely R&B melody. The sun-dappled guitar tones of Mac DeMarco arrive, curling out of the track’s heavier, chugging riffs. And before it’s over, the sagacious DeMarco drops off a fatherly piece of advice for his host: “You should take it easy on yourself. Enjoy what you’re doing. And if you stop enjoying it at some point, no problem. Don’t do it anymore.” ISABELIA HERRERARuel, ‘Growing Up Is _____’Understatement of the year: “Growing up is weird.” The Australian songwriter Ruel admits but doesn’t quite take blame for his relationship misdeeds in this song, thumping along as he hops between tenor and falsetto, trying to justify himself. Even though he knows he failed, he tries to assign himself, “No regrets, no mistakes.” PARELESMitski, ‘Heat Lightning’How much did U2 change the landscape of rock? Mitski’s “Heat Lightning” is the kind of echoey and allegorical march that U2 forged decades ago, underpinned by a Velvet Underground drone. As its guitars and strings swell, the song surges forward steadfastly: “I’ve held on to feel the storm approaching,” Mitski sings, and then, “I give it up to you — I surrender.” PARELESLittle Dragon, ‘Drifting Out’“Drifting Out” has Yuri Nagano singing about precisely that feeling — “Deep sleep, crashing waves, heavy tide/Mmm, ooh love carry me down” — on an EP with three versions of the song: one with piano, one with cellos, one mixing all the sources with electronics. The cello version is the keeper; brawny arpeggios and rhythmic chords delivered by a pair of cellists including none other than Yo-Yo Ma. PARELESFlores, ‘Fools Gold’Some relationship send-offs surrender to despair; others are tokens of personal fortitude, reminders that there will always be a way forward. Flores’s “Fools Gold” is about an estrangement from a partner, but the Texas singer-songwriter is the one who comes out sure of herself. With the smokiness of a ’90s R&B icon, she oozes coldhearted pity for her ex over a funky bass line and operatic strings. “I got all your things to the left of me/You won’t be the death of me,” she sings. “Let me get one good look at you/Ain’t that a shame.” Ouch. HERRERAGirlpool, ‘Faultline’A country guitar twang, Harmony Tividad’s breathy coos and a sense of impressionistic abandon conjure a cinematic intensity on “Faultline.” But Girlpool doesn’t stop there — instead, it returns with the same propensity for piercing, bleeding-heart lyricism that has defined its work since “Before the World Was Big” in 2015. When Tividad sings, “I loved you so traumatically that I/Can barely lift the world you left for me,” there is little left to do than pull the covers over your head, turn off your alarm and let yourself decay under the sheets. HERRERAJeff Parker, ‘Ugly Beauty’There’s an almost alluring feeling of remove, of darkened vision but not necessarily a darkened attitude, in the sound of Jeff Parker’s guitar playing. When he’s unaccompanied, that feeling doubles. A collaborator with Meshell Ndegeocello and Makaya McCraven, among plenty others, he’s an expert at shooting friction into the groove of a group, one jagged single-note line at a time. But in solo-guitar moments, there’s nothing to disrupt but himself. Parker gets halfway into covering Thelonious Monk’s “Ugly Beauty,” from his new solo-guitar LP “Forfolks,” before he starts toying around with a sustain effect, giving his rich chords an electrified, ghostly power. GIOVANNI RUSSONELLOCarmen Villain with Arve Henriksen, ‘Gestures’This meditative but constantly changing instrumental begins with the assembly of a steady-state percussion pattern on bells and hand drums. It’s joined by the trumpeter Arve Henriken, improvising a solo that’s backed by loops and washes of his harmonized, electronically warped trumpet. It’s a clear homage to the continuing influence of the trumpeter and “fourth world music” innovator Jon Hassell, who died in June. PARELES More

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    Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers’s ‘Red’ Duet, and 14 More New Songs

    Hear tracks by Beyoncé, Let’s Eat Grandma, Beach House 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.Taylor Swift featuring Phoebe Bridgers, ‘Nothing New’Like “Fearless” before it, Taylor Swift’s rerecorded and reclaimed “Red (Taylor’s Version),” out Friday, features a trove of newly recorded material from the vault. One of the best offerings is “Nothing New,” a melancholic meditation Swift wrote in 2012 and returned to nearly a decade later, enlisting the singer-songwriter Phoebe Bridgers as her very capable duet partner. The song is kind of a shadow version of “The Lucky One,” Swift’s incisive but ultimately peppy track about the price of fame on the original release of “Red.” “Nothing New” is much darker in tone and more sharply critical of a culture that moves from one young ingénue to the next: “How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?” Swift asks, foreshadowing some of the themes she’d explore on her 2020 album “Folklore.” Most striking, though, is the bridge, in which she imagines meeting the Eve Harrington to her Margo Channing, a predecessor with “the kind of radiance you only have at 17.” It’s hard not to picture the longtime Swiftie Olivia Rodrigo (“She’ll know the way and then she’ll say she got the map from me”), who seems to have fulfilled this prophecy to a T. But in the time that has passed from when Swift wrote this song to when she finally recorded it, the mournful “Nothing New” has transformed into something triumphant: It’s proof that Swift has outlasted her novelty and stuck around longer than her detractors imagined. Plus, she doesn’t seem to mind Rodrigo calling her “mom.” LINDSAY ZOLADZBeach House, ‘Superstar’Beach House’s music contains many gifts, but it’s the group’s ability to magnify life’s small dramas into sky-sized emotions that glitters. “Superstar” is a prodigious torch song that fits comfortably among other beloved anthems in the band’s catalog: the blissed-out “Myth,” the romance of “Lover of Mine.” Here, the duo immerses itself in the cosmos, the trick of light of a falling star guiding the nightmare of a relationship’s end. “When you were mine/We fell across the sky,” sings Victoria Legrand as the band once again harnesses an indescribable feeling and bottles it. ISABELIA HERRERABeyoncé, ‘Be Alive’There’s nothing subtle about the message of Black striving and ambition in “Be Alive,” Beyoncé’s song for “King Richard,” the movie about the father and tennis coach of Venus and Serena Williams. “This is hustle personified/Look how we’ve been fighting to stay alive,” she sings. “So when we win we will have pride.” The beat is blunt, steady and determined, and as Beyoncé pushes her voice toward a rasp, she girds herself in vocal harmonies, a multitracked family. The song insists on the community effort behind the triumph. JON PARELESIrreversible Entanglements, ‘Open the Gates’“Open the gates, we arrive — energy time,” Camae Ayewa (a.k.a. Moor Mother) commands in the title track to the new album by Irreversible Entanglements, which backs her spoken words with a shape-shifting jazz quartet. “Open the Gates” is a concise but packed two-and-a-half minutes, with a six-beat bass vamp holding together prismatic, multilayered percussion and horns — a welcome that promises eventful times ahead. PARELESGirl Ultra, ‘Amores de Droga’“Amores de Droga” doesn’t require much to glow: a steady four-on-the-floor rhythm, the weightless melodies of the Mexican R&B chanteuse Girl Ultra, a couple of bleeding-heart lyrics. “A mi nadie me enseñó a querer,” Girl Ultra sings. “Yo no nací pa’ enamorarme.” (“No one taught me how to love/I wasn’t born to fall in love.”) It’s a refutation — a detox from poisonous love and all its dangers. HERRERATeddy Afro, ‘Armash (Stand Up)’Ethiopia is consumed in a civil war as its Tigray ethnic minority, formerly in control, moves against a democratically elected government that has been taking its own brutal measures. On Nov. 2, the government declared a state of emergency. That was the day Teddy Afro released “Armash,” a nine-minute plea for Ethiopian unity sung in Amharic. It has two chords, an expanding horn line and a voice with deep sadness and a tinge of Auto-Tune, as he sings, “Longing for a country, here, in my own motherland.” It has logged more than three million listens on YouTube, but music can’t heal everything. PARELESMelanie Charles, ‘All Africa (The Beat)/The Music Is the Magic’In 2017 Melanie Charles self-released “The Girl With the Green Shoes,” a tantalizing, 30-minute mixtape that sampled Kelela, Nina Simone and Buddy Miles, and shined a light on Charles’s rangy talents as a vocalist, flutist and producer. She returns this week with “Y’all Don’t (Really) Care About Black Women,” her debut for the major jazz label Verve, and this one is a mixtape too, of sorts: She samples or reworks a song by a different Black woman ancestor on nearly every track. Abbey Lincoln gets covered twice, in a medley that starts with “All Africa,” a rolling rumination on the ancient power of the drum originally on “We Insist! Max Roach’s Freedom Now Suite.” Charles layers four-part harmony and swathes of effects onto an incantation of “The beat!” and her band kicks into a scorching, slow-motion groove. It opens onto a blasted-out cover of “The Music Is the Magic,” one of Lincoln’s most enchanted compositions, but after just over a minute, it fades out. The proof of concept is there. Now we’re waiting for more. GIOVANNI RUSSONELLOShamir, ‘Cisgender’Most of Shamir’s songs have been wrapped in sweetness. Not this one. “Cisgender” is an uncompromising declaration of gender fluidity: “I don’t wanna be a girl, I don’t wanna be a man,” Shamir declares. “I’m just existing on this God-forsaken land/You can take it or leave it.” The track is industrial, with brute-force drums and distorted guitar, insisting that limits are being pushed; variations of a four-letter word pop up in the lyrics. In the video, the singer has deer horns and cloven hooves. PARELESMitski, ‘The Only Heartbreaker’There’s sleek, poppy sheen to Mitski’s latest single, the second from her newly announced sixth album, “Laurel Hell,” but beneath the distortion-scorched surfaces of her early work, she’s been writing melodies this catchy and anthemic since her great 2014 album “Bury Me at Makeout Creek.” Co-written with Semisonic’s Dan Wilson, “The Only Heartbreaker” is propelled by punchy percussion and retro-sounding synthesizers that explode into a dramatic conflagration during the song’s bridge. Like so many of Mitski’s best songs, this one is about embracing emotionality and the inevitability of messiness: “I’ll be the bad guy in the play,” she tells a relatively reserved partner. “I’ll be the water main that’s burst and flooding/You’ll be by the window, only watching.” ZOLADZPinegrove, ‘Alaska’“Last month in Alaska,” Evan Stephens Hall sings at the beginning of the latest song from Pinegrove, stretching out those vowels with a twangy sense of yearning. (In the next verse, impressively, he’ll wring a similar kind of musicality out of the word “Orlando.”) Taken from the New Jersey indie-rockers’ forthcoming album “11:11” (out Jan. 28), “Alaska” is one of those cozy winter songs you want to wrap around yourself like a wool blanket. The lyrics showcase the vivid poeticism of Hall’s writing (“like a ladder to the atmosphere, the rungs each come again and again”) while the song’s driving rhythm and fuzzy guitars create an atmosphere that’s at once emotionally restless and as warm as a hearth. ZOLADZCamp Cope, ‘Blue’Following the righteous punk anger of Camp Cope’s great 2018 album “How to Socialize & Make Friends,” the Australian trio’s first single in three years is something of a departure: “Blue” is a twangy, acoustic-driven reflection, its sonic palette akin to something off Waxahatchee’s “St. Cloud.” But subsequent listens reveal singer Georgia Maq’s emotional perception to be as receptive and unflinching as ever, as the song depicts a relationship in which both partners are struggling with their own forms of depression: “It’s all blue, you know I feel it and I bet you do.” ZOLADZLet’s Eat Grandma, ‘Two Ribbons’“Two Ribbons,” the title song of an album due in April, puts a serene facade on all-consuming grief. It backs Jenny Hollingworth’s voice with, mostly, two chords from a calmly strummed electric guitar, along with underlying tones; Velvet Underground songs like “Pale Blue Eyes” are predecessors. Her voice and her words cope with suffering, death, mourning, survival, and moving on; the song is quietly shattering. PARELES.Mdou Moctar, ‘Live at the Niger River’Mdou Moctar, a Tuareg guitarist and singer born in Niger, and the other three members of his band, set up to perform on a bank of the Niger River during a scenic sunrise to play four songs — “Tala Tannam,” “Bissmilahi Atagh,” “Ya Habibti” and “Chismiten” — from the album they released this year, “Afrique Victime.” With just two guitars, bass and calabash, the music is live, unadorned and pristinely recorded. Drone harmonies make it meditative, even as the rhythms and guitar lines streak ahead. PARELESAdam O’Farrill, ‘Ducks’The trumpeter and composer Adam O’Farrill has a way of showing his ambition by turning the volume down, asking the members of his quartet, Stranger Days, to play their spare but not-simple parts with measured intention, so that all four instruments can be heard at the same volume. On “Ducks,” from “Visions of Your Other,” O’Farrill’s just-released album with Stranger Days, the drummer Zack O’Farrill (his brother) leaves space around every drum stroke. The busiest it gets is at the end of the track, when O’Farrill and the tenor saxophonist Xavier Del Castillo hold long notes together in taut harmony. RUSSONELLO More