CABLE TIES All Her Plans (Poison City/Merge) — The Melbourne, Australia trio Cable Ties comes into their third album with a fine fury. All Her Plans opens with “Crashing Through,” which skews close enough to vintage Sleater-Kinney to flap anyone’s flannel, and not just because Jenny McKechnie has a bellow that could rouse simpatico-based admiration in Corin Tucker. From there, Cable Ties roars through a set of songs that often survey the world around them and finds it lacking in sympathy, fairness, and justice. Their music roils and rages appropriately. “Silos” melds glam-tinged guitar and a propulsive rhythm as McKechnie speak-sings lyrics about social support systems being wrenched away from the citizenry with the only countervailing move of choosing to “make the prisons bigger.” Elsewhere, “Time for You” at least find a hopeful solution to all this hyper-stimulated discontentment as McKechnie declares, “I’ve got no time/ But I’ve got time for you.” In addition to those tracks, make time for the following: “Perfect Client,” “Mum’s Caravan,” “Thoughts Back,” and contemplative album closer “Deep Breath Out.”

PJ HARVEY I Inside the Old Year Dying (Partisan) — PJ Harvey’s new album wasn’t supposed to be an album. After writing and publishing the epic poem Orlam, which is in part an exploration of the disappearing dialect of the English coastal area where she was reared, Harvey decided to create a work of theater as a companion piece. But when you’ve built an enviable career around making records, sometimes whatever you start finishes in that form. I Inside the Old Year Dying is Harvey’s first proper album in six years (The Hope Six Demolition Project was her last dip into record shops), but there’s no dust on her artistry. The new album continues her latter-career trend of music that defies expectations and yet is recognizably all her. The material is rich with a yearning to find meaning, expressed through the lyrics as well as the daring range of the music. “Autumn Term” is like a sparer version of the warped soul of St. Vincent’s Daddy’s Home, and “August” sounds like it’s crossed through a mist of distortion and still has a few wisps of that experience clinging to it. Everything builds to the album closer “A Noiseless Noise,” pulls together the entirety of Harvey’s established creativity; it’s precise, clamorous, raw, and enthralling. In addition to cuts mentions, check out “Prayer at the Gate,” “Seen an I,” the title cut, and the Nick Cave-like “A Child’s Question, August.”