Shannon And The ClamsDreams In The Rat House (Hardly Art)

Hey there, rockabilly ladies and gents! Can I make a Clambake joke? Because if you can’t picture some pastel-clad teens shimmy and shakin’ to the fuzzed-up blues of Shannon And The Clams’ retro rock, you really need to catch up on your feel-good Elvis flicks of the summer. Yet Shannon Shaw (Shannon) and Cody Blanchard (The Clams?) have written a series of great old-style pop tunes tinged with the macabre (Ozma is about Shannon’s dead dog, isn’t it?) without becoming a tired brill-crème trope. – LH

Summer TwinsForget Me EP (Burger)

You might not know who Chelsea and Justine Brown are, and I don’t either. But this EP has been the soundtrack to all my gin-binge nights recently. They’re like The Ronettes if The Ronettes weren’t so afraid Phil Spector was gonna murder them the whole time. Don’t tell me twee is dead. – LP

Vampire WeekendModern Vampies Of The City (XL)

“Haters.” Along with “trolling,” no other word has done more damage to the online discourse surrounding pop music in the last few years. Too often the word is used to dismiss criticism (“Oh, you’re just a hater”) and demonize dissenting opinions (“Fuck the haters”), but it occasionally feels like a real phenomenon. Example: People really hate Vampire Weekend. Luckily, the group’s latest album, Modern Vampires Of The City, is a masterclass in hater engagement. Without changing anything elemental about their sound or worldview, the band simply crafted an album of fuller and richer songs, a record of haunted orchestral pop music. It’s the sound of a band saying “Hi haters” not as a provocation, but as an invitation. – DJ

WaxahatcheeCerulean Salt (Don Giovanni)

Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield writes lyrics that belong on the spines of textbooks. Lines like, “Won’t you sleep with me every night for a week/Won’t you just let me pretend this is the love I need” deserve to be immortalized on sneakers, in composition books and within AOL away messages. Crutchfield’s latest album, Cerulean Salt, grabs effortlessly from the worlds of folk, punk, grunge and emo without ever bothering to make a show of its musical voracity, instead putting the emphasis on the words. “I cling to indifference, you to your worst memory,” she sings on “Swan Dive.” Make no mistake: This is an album to cling to. – DJ

William TylerImpossible Truth (Merge)

How many John Fahey inspired, dread-soaked, man vs. nature, dystopian instrumental rock albums does the world need? One more apparently, because William Tyler’s Impossible Truth is as beautiful and breath-taking as this very particular type of cosmic mood music comes. While our culture seems perpetually concerned with imagining increasingly brutal and terrifying apocalyptic scenarios—you can’t drive to work without seeing a billboard for the new end times showdown—Tyler’s vision of the end is peaceful, even hopeful. This is an apocalypse you can bring a lawn chair to. – DJ