Stream These New Puritans’ Crooked Wing and more projects for New Music Friday

Charli XCX’s Coachella hat tip to nearly two dozen other artists including These New Puritans was generous, but also potentially quite beautiful. It’s lovely to imagine a Charli fan pressing play on the new album from the Essex-based avant-garde group and, instead of being greeted by another summer of decadent brat-style pop, hearing a falsetto voice sing of steady patience over incense-curled organ: “I am buried / I am deep underground / I am listening / For any sound.” The genius of Crooked Wing, the fifth album from Jack and George Barnett, is the rare warmth emanating from the ornate compositions — beneath the pristine ivories and prismatic glockenspiel harmonies, a richer kind of majesty pulses. It’s a result of their love of sophisti-pop like Talk Talk and The Blue Nile, deepening the mystery of tracks like the Caroline Polachek collaboration “Industrial Love Song” and “Wild Fields,” a rousing sequel in spirit to their 2010 single “We Want War,” its militaristic percussion signalling an indie band in transition to something more adventurous. Not every fan Charli sends their way will buy in, but those that do will be treated to yet another boundary-pushing, immaculately crafted project from an act who, like Charli, was always too big for the blog era.

Stream: Spotify | Apple Music | Bandcamp

A new Stereolab project is always an exciting prospect — even more so when its features list includes the likes of Cooper Crain, Rob Frye, Ben LaMar Gay, Ric Elsworth, Holger Zapf, Marie Merlet, and Molly Read. Allowing these faces into the fold, everyone’s favorite French/English groop have delivered another groovy wonder full of contrasts — joyful and wistful, fluid and glitchy. Take early-album standout “Melodie Is A Wound,” a kitchen-sink jam full of brilliantly developed motifs that insinuate themselves into each of the production’s many layers. “Is there some form of justice possible?” lead vocalist Lætitia Sadier sings tranquilly. Like the best Stereolab cuts, it moves through slow phases, so that by the time we find ourselves in an all-out skronk fest that bursts open into a city-pop headbopper, we’re not quite sure how we got there. Later, we find ourselves suspended in aspic as “Vermona F Transistor” slips into gear, caught up in the giddy maelstrom of “Electrified Teenybop!” and dancing goofily to the happy-go-lucky leading line of “Esemplastic Creeping Eruption.” Closer “If You Remember I Forgot How To Dream Pt.2” lays Instant Holograms On Metal Film to rest on a cloud of dreamy disco that dissipates when an eight-on-the-floor drum machine plows in, pushing the instrumental forward while Sadier comments on the human condition, neither exulting nor lamenting. — Raphael Helfand

Stream: Spotify | Apple Music | Bandcamp

In his short life, Matthew Urango made disco music that was both political and playful. The self-styled “disabled disco innovator,” who was born with spina bifida, kyphosis and scoliosis, finished work on his second album Quit To Play Chess on the day he passed away in March 2024. MGMT’s Andrew VanWyngarden and NYC rapper Wiki make guest appearances but it’s Urango’s voice that cuts through the kaleidoscope of funk guitar and steady beats that go into songs like “800mph” and “Walk Again.” Whether he’s writing about finding humanity with a villainous figure or simply basking in the glow of a new crush, the songs on Quit To Play Chess are packed with rich melodies and sprightly flourishes that linger long after they come to an end. Both “Walk Again” and album highlight “Babylon,” meanwhile, deal explicitly with life after death with Urgano asking on the latter whether there is “Hennessy in heaven?” Posthumous albums can be a moral grey area but Quit To Play Chess acts as both a fitting tribute to a life well lived, as well as a perfect introduction to future fans.

Stream: Spotify | Apple Music | Bandcamp

Julia Michaels’ songs always have that special something. The secret-weapon songwriter behind hits for Sabrina Carpenter and Dua Lipa is also one of the sharpest artists in pop music in her own right, capable of turning a hook into an earworm and a lyric into a mantra. Her latest project Second Self is a project filled with endless groove and brain-itching moments. My favorites: 1) the glorious sax solo that blows in midway through opening bop “Heaven II,” 2) singing along to “Scissors” and never missing the lyric “when I say I’ll see you, I mean in Nevuary,” 3) the 20 different ways she riffs on the concept of time on “Time,” 4) how when I’m done I need to go and play it again. —Steffanee Wang

Stream: Spotify | Apple Music