IAN SWEET, Show Me How You Disappear

On her third album as IAN SWEET, Jilian Medford has created some of her biggest, most ambitious songs yet. Show Me How You Disappear is brimming with off-kilter indie pop; but even with its high production quality and skyscraping sound, Medford is still down-to-earth, breathing anxiety-soothing mantras into her textured instrumentals: “I want to get better, better, better,” she sings on the aptly-named “Get Better.”

Adult Mom, Driver

Blending a singer-songwriter heart with perfect pop melodies, Stevie Knipe sounds more self-assured than ever on Driver, their fourth album as Adult Mom. “I am the proudest I have ever been,” Knipe said of the album in a statement. “This record is about agency, control, and the connections to yourself that you can make while you put yourself back together.”

Driver feels like the breath of relief that comes when you’ve finally reached the other side of your struggles: “And now I don’t even think of you when I’m sober,” they croon on album highlight “Sober.”

Tigers Jaw, I Won’t Care How You Remember Me

Spearheaded by the leading vocals between Ben Walsh and Brianna Collins, Pennsylvania quartet Tigers Jaw return this week with their sixth album, I Won’t Care How You Remember Me. This album marks the first time all of the band members have shared songwriting duties, making it the emo veterans’ most expansive release yet. “We make the music we want to make, we push each other to continue evolving and growing as musicians, and we are so proud of where we are now,” Walsh said in a statement.

Home Is Where, I Became Birds EP

Florida band Home Is Where describe themselves as a “blend of whirlwind hardcore aggression and warm, open-hearted folksy melancholy.” Those descriptors check out on I Became Birds, Home Is Where’s new six-song EP that’s stuffed with idiosyncratic emo-tinged punk. With singer Brandon MacDonald’s snarky vocals atop a brimming full-band sound, I Became Birds is an utterly confident-sounding EP.

Fake Fruit, Fake Fruit

Drawing from iconic forebears like Wire and Pylon, Fake Fruit are easily among the next crop of post-punk greats. On their self-titled album Hannah D’Amato’s vocals alternate between bellowing howls and softer murmurs, while jagged guitar lines across the record ensure their melodies never grow stale.