KATY KIRBY Blue Raspberry (Anti-) — Blue Raspberry, Katy Kirby’s second full-length and first for Anti-, is the sort of splendidly rendered, open-hearted singer-songwriter effort that now seems so rare and elusive that it almost feels like a memory instead of a new set of songs. “Party of the Century” sounds like it might have wafted if from an nineteen-seventies Emmylou Harris record. Just because she’s understated doesn’t mean the Nashville-based performer is soft around the edges. Kirby knows how to craft truly devastating lyrics, as demonstrated on “Wait Listen” with its “So I turned off my location/ Let her fuck me like you thought you did/ I remember every minute” full-on body blow. Even as “Cubic Zirconia” is gently jaunty in its music, it’s prickly and confrontational in its words (“You’re the prettiest mermaid in the souvenir shop/ But if you’re coming home this late/ You know you’d better be drunk/ You’d better be drunk”). It is the delicacy of the craft that makes the album so resonant. The quiet, evocative piano ballad “Redemption Arc” opens Blue Raspberry and accurately sets the tone for the album as a precise, piercing wonder. Kirby’s creativity is simply radiant. In addition to the cuts already mentioned, slurp up “Fences,” “Drop Dead,” “Salt Crystal,” and “Table.”

THE LAST DINNER PARTY Prelude to Ecstasy (Island) — The Last Dinner Party have an origin story that feels Xeroxed from the great English acts of the original college rock era, when joyfully grandiose pop acts could could pirouette forward to earn adoration before spinning away seemingly just as quickly and magically. The members of the band assembled as they were starting at uni, defiantly made music together that they were certain was out of style, honed their craft with London club shows to increasingly zealous audiences, and signed with a eager label that quickly guided them to a splashy debut release. Somewhere out there, the blokes in ABC gaze on like glowing angels. For all the throwback qualities present on the band’s debut, Prelude to Ecstasy, the Last Dinner Party sound brightly au courant, traipsing in a more approachable version of the lush, dramatic pop that Perfume Genius can mold in works of, well, genius. “Caesar on a TV Screen” is like the group is auditioning for a goth queen status with a reworked ABBA jam. That they somehow make it work speaks to their weird magic. There are arresting moments at nearly every turn: “Sinner” is lithe and spectacular, and “Burn Alive” isn’t that far from P.J. Harvey’s easeful theatricality. The material is strong enough to convince that the Last Dinner Party might be more than the flavor of the day. Most of those nineteen-eighties pop acts are still playing to exuberant masses. Give in to the Ecstasy with the following tracks: “The Feminine Urge,” “Beautiful Boy,” “My Lady of Mercy,” and “Nothing Matters.”