ENGLISH TEACHER This Could Be Texas (Island) — The Leeds-based band English Teacher has been in a continuous state of evolution and wholesale reinvention since their formation, in 2020. The quarter draws on the whole of that journey for their debut full-length, This Could Be Texas, which makes for a varied, dynamic listen. Thrillingly, English Teacher comes across as band that swerves freely across genre diving lines while always staying true to themselves. Driven by the expressive vocals of Lily Fontaine (who also handles rhythm guitar duties) and thumping lead guitar work by Lewis Whiting (bassist Nicholas Eden and drummer Douglas Frost round out the group), English Teacher roars and murmurs with equal aplomb. “The World’s Biggest Paving Slab” shoots forward with writhing tension, like a version of the Breeders with more of a propensity for soaring choruses, and “R&B” has a tight, post-punk pulse. The shrewd clarity favored by producer Marta Salogni heightens the power of the more delicate fare on the album, such as the quietly cinematic “Mastermind Specialism” or the toughened twee pop of “Broken Biscuits” and the utterly charming “Not Everyone Gets to Go to Space” (“Not everybody gets to go to space and that’s OK/ You’re too busy here, how could you fit it in?”). This Could Be Texas sounds like an announcement of restless intent from an artist that is going to do everything they can to avoid a rut, happily so. Expand your lesson plan with the following cuts: “I’m Not Crying You’re Crying,” the title cut, “Nearly Daffodils,” and “Sideboob.”

SHELLAC To All Trains (Touch and Go) — Although Steve Albini was impressively open to honest reflection, sentiment didn’t seem to be his thing. It’s probably best, then, to not dwell on the sad, somber timing of the release of To All Trains, the sixth studio album from Shellac, which arrives less than two week’s after Albini’s death from a heart attack at the too-young age of sixty-one. The band’s first full-length in ten years doesn’t require an emotionally fraught backstory to give it heft anyway. It is filled with fine, furious music given no further context than its very existence. Albini and his cohorts — bassist Bob Weston and drummer Todd Trainer — are in a mischievous mood throughout To All Trains, taking aim at all manner of pomposity, including their own. Album opener “WSOD” takes a swipe at the World Series of Poker events that Albini has successfully competed in (the reworked acronym replaces the name of the card game with an off-color euphemism for demeaning fealty), and the resounding meta, Mark E. Smith–tweaking “How I Wrote How I Wrote Elastic Man (cock & bull)” (“Before we start, I must explain/ The title once was Sauerkraut/ Here I get ahead of me/ The songs aren’t even written yet”). The secret code to Shellac might be found in the track “Tattoos,” on which they come across like an angrier, louder version of the Minutemen. Elsewhere, “Chick New Wave” is a piquantly pummeling assault, and album closer “I Don’t Fear Hell” is molasses-thick hard rock. Don’t hear To All Trains as an unexpected goodbye; it’s just a damn fine record. That’s enough. In addition to the cuts already mentioned, catch “Girl from Outside,” “Scrappers,” and “Scabby the Rat.”