GLITTERER Rationale (Anti-) — Rationale is the third album billed to Glitterer, but there’s a case to be made for it as a debut. Previously a solo project for Ned Russin to go after the creative itches that weren’t alleviates by the backscratcher of his main gig with D.C. act Title Fight, Glitterer expands to a proper band on the new release. Guitarist Connor Morin, keyboardist Nicole Dao, and drummer Jonas Farah — like Russin, they’re all veterans of the scene that churns in and around the nation’s capital — join the fray, and the quarter work together beautifully to make a splendid racket. They can definitely get loud. “I Want to Be Invisible” carries ear-ringing echoes of Russin’s hardcore history, and the Grohl-y backbeat on “My Lonely Lightning” can’t help but call to mind the boom years of grunge. Rationale is arguably more impressive when there are different, more complex sonic textures introduced. “Certainty” has the fierce yearning of vintage Buffalo Tom, and “Just a Place” shines with the tingly loveliness of the Ocean Blue and other acts that showed the softer side of shoegaze. The new era of Glitterer is off to a bedazzling start. Get rationally excited about “Can’t Feel Anything,” “It’s My Turn,” “No One There,” and “Half Truth.”

HURRAY FOR THE RIFF RAFF The Past Is Still Alive (Nonesuch) — On The Past Is Still Alive, their ninth studio album under the Hurray for the Riff Raff banner, Alynda Segarra excavates her memory like never before. Always a compelling songwriter, Segarra pulls from their own vagabond history, driven in part by the death of their father not long before recording the album. The lyrics are understandably piercingly personal and precisely detailed. As is often the case in these situations, the sentiments expressed across these songs are imbued with a universality that only comes when an artist is being deeply true to their own experiences. Working with producer Brad Cook — who handled the same duties on the previous Hurray for the Riff Raff album, the exceptional Life on Earth — Segarra’s shapes the songs with a combination of gentle sleekness and ragged authenticity that is like a nicely updated version of the bygone emo-folk of a generation earlier. It’s telling that Conor Oberst fits so snugly into the aesthetic when he guest on the fine “The World Is Dangerous.” Elsewhere on the album, “Buffalo” is a fine example of Segarra’s relaxed yet sharp storytelling (“I don’t want us to be like that/ Running wild and running free/ This year tried to kill us, baby/ Well good luck trying, you can’t catch me”), the chugging “Hawkmoon” is like a lost gem that was retrieved from the old Wilburys mine, and “Vetiver” has a bluesy grind and distorted vocals that provides extra friction. By making their past live, Segarra has made a work that’s fiercely memorable. In additional to the cuts mentioned, give a cheer for the following: “Alibi,” “Snake Plant (The Past Is Still Alive),” the tender ballad “Hourglass,” and “Ogallala.”