“Manning Fireworks,” by MJ Lenderman

There’s an art to writing songs that are as comedic as they are heartbreaking, and 25-year-old singer-songwriter MJ Lenderman has the knack: The best lines on his fourth solo album, “Manning Fireworks,” smart like resounding wallops to the funny bone. “I wouldn’t be in the seminary if I could be with you,” he howls atop jangly, bittersweet chords on the single “Rudolph.” Lenderman, who also plays guitar in the country-tinged indie-rock band Wednesday, is something of an old soul, intuitively weaving together a collection of influences — the shambolic energy of Neil Young & Crazy Horse; the twangy sparkle of early R.E.M.; the wry poetry of Silver Jews frontman David Berman — that have little to do with one another except that they were making records long before he was born. Still, Lenderman’s warm, warped croak has a distinct personality, bringing to life songs like the sad-sack breakup anthem “She’s Leaving You” and the jammy, 10-minute closer “Bark at the Moon.” An impressive step up from his acclaimed 2022 release, “Boat Songs,” “Manning Fireworks” sounds destined to be Lenderman’s breakout. (Now out; Anti-)

“Quiet in a World Full of Noise,” by Dawn Richard and Spencer Zahn

Dawn Richard’s musical career hasn’t preceded in a straight line — and thank goodness. After initially rising to fame as a member of Danity Kane, the girl group assembled on the 2005 season of “Making the Band,” Richard has spent the past decade moving away from polished pop, releasing a series of artful and ambitious albums that draw upon traditions of Afrofuturism and progressive R&B while always repping the sonic history of her native New Orleans. In 2022, Richard collaborated with the ambient, neo-classical composer Spencer Zahn for one of her most striking records yet, the meditative but soulful song cycle “Pigments.” Richard and Zahn have linked up again for “Quiet in a World Full of Noise,” an album even more emotionally powerful than its predecessor. Drawing upon her own familial trauma — including a beloved cousin’s killing and her father’s cancer diagnosis — Richard melds the stylings of jazz, R&B and spoken-word poetry to deliver some of her most arresting lyricism yet. (“Now I’m wearing life a little baggy,” she admits on the poignant opening track “Stains,” which evokes a sense of emotional discomfort.) Zahn’s glacial piano and undulating ribbons of synthesizer complement Richard’s words beautifully, never overwhelming their quiet grace but instead allowing them to reverberate and echo across haunting soundscapes. (Oct. 4; Merge)

“The Hard Quartet,” by The Hard Quartet

Journeyman guitarist Matt Sweeney has plenty of rock ‘n’ roll bona fides, including the fact that he used to live in the East Village apartment building immortalized on the cover of Led Zeppelin’s “Physical Graffiti” as well as in the Rolling Stones’ iconically laid-back 1981 music video for “Waiting on a Friend.” His new indie-rock supergroup the Hard Quartet pays loving homage to that Stones video with its clip for the warm, lived-in “Rio’s Song,” filmed on its hallowed stoop. The band features Stephen Malkmus (of the slacker-rock heroes Pavement), Emmett Kelly (of the Will Oldham-adjacent Cairo Gang) and Jim White (the drummer for the underground legends the Dirty Three). Across a loose, satisfyingly noodly 15 tracks — including the squalling “Renegade” and the plaintive ballad “Killed by Death” — the quartet pass around lead vocal duties like a communal spliff and emanate the uncomplicated but electric chemistry of four dudes who really like jamming with one another. (Oct. 4; Matador)

“Patterns in Repeat,” by Laura Marling

In April 2020, the consistently excellent English folk singer-songwriter Laura Marling released an album called “Song for Our Daughter,” a collection of material written to an imaginary child. If she was manifesting, it worked: Last year Marling gave birth to a daughter, and her forthcoming eighth album, “Patterns in Repeat,” teems with the everyday revelations of new motherhood, as captured by an expert songwriter at the top of her game. “Last night in your sleep you started crying,” she sings on the sweetly stirring opening track, “Child of Mine.” “I can’t protect you there, though I keep trying.” On the sparsely arranged and incisively written “Patterns,” Marling muses on her own identity as a daughter, while the quietly moving “Looking Back” imagines her future as an elder in the family line. These perspective shifts make “Patterns in Repeat” a rich, multilayered meditation on family, time and life itself. Rebutting the sexist assumptions that motherhood somehow diminishes creative energy, Marling here proves firsthand that the experience can be profoundly generative and endlessly inspiring. (Oct. 25; Partisan/Chrysalis)

“Nobody Loves You More,” by Kim Deal

Since her earliest days in Pixies and her long-running alt-rock group the Breeders, Kim Deal’s hazy, cotton-candy voice has been a one-of-a-kind mainstay in underground rock, but she’s never released a full solo album until now. At turns abrasive and achingly sweet, “Nobody Loves You More” is pure Deal, whether she’s offering her own off-kilter version of yacht rock on the lead single “Coast” or turning more experimental on the angular, staticky “Crystal Breath.” Even at its most infectious, the album has a misty melancholy hanging over it; it marks Deal’s last collaboration with her friend and longtime engineer Steve Albini, who died unexpectedly in May. The lilting, pedal-steel-kissed standout “Are You Mine” sounds like a simple, doo-wop-inspired love song but turns out to be an ode to Deal’s late mother, who struggled with dementia. Even in the midst of all that loss, “Nobody Loves You More” heralds, for Deal, at 63, a fruitful new beginning. (Nov. 22; 4AD)