LUCIUS Lucius (Wildewoman / Fantasy) — Like a lot of artists who opt for a self-titled effort deep into a discography, Lucius means it as a focused assertion of self. They’ve openly stated that Lucius, the group’s fifth studio album, represents a sort of homecoming as the various members of the group feel like they’re coming into their selves and settling into well-grounded lives. It sure sounds like Jess Wolfe and Holly Laessig, the co-frontwomen of the band, are in command of their sonic art. The album is slick and assured (drummer Dan Molad handles production duties), living in a zone of big, florid pop. The dark radiance of “Final Days” is even reminiscent of the grand build-ups of Florence and the Machine, the modern maestros of such grandness. “Gold Rush” recalls St. Vincent’s weirdo experiments with nineteen-seventies soul, and “Stranger Danger,” which includes an appearance by Taylor Goldsmith of Dawes, suggests they tried to imagine Kate Bush writing a country song. There’s a expansive quality that extends to the guest list; Lucius welcomes all sorts of folks to join their jamboree. Madison Cunningham, who this year has already couch-surfed across albums by Deep Sea Diver and Lucy Dacus, lends her voice to the lithe “Impressions.” There’s simply no doubt that Lucius is firmly, forthrightly here. In addition to those mentioned, get to know Lucius with the following cuts: “Mad Love,” “Old Tape,” and “Orange Blossoms.”

KASSI VALAZZA From Newman Street (Fluff and Gravy) — From Newman Street, Kassi’s Valazza’s third studio album, is a portrait of change. Although recorded in her longtime home base of Portland, Oregon, the songs on the record were written as she went through the arduous process of relocating across the country, to New Orleans. The songs carry the wistful ruminating of a wandering troubadour. Album opener “Better Highways” is proper tone-setter. It’s a lovely nineteen-seventies folk throwback that frames a not-meant-to-be romantic relationship in thoughts of moving about: “Counting on those better highways/ To bring you all the things you need/ The weight you carried on your shoulder/ It hard to face and it’s deafening.” Probably settled in her musical mode, Valazza stays there, like she’s curled up on a comfy porch swing while a warm, breezy day moves on by. The sound is retro without being cheaply nostalgic. The album is more like a wise act of reclamation. Making music this sweet and pure has always been available. The right person just needed to do it. Comparisons to vintage Joni Mitchell are irresistible, whether it’s the pillowy “Shadow of Lately” (“Bo took a job/ Down in New Mexico/ Painting pictures/ Sleeping better”) or the piquant vocal phrasing on “Market Street Savior.” Little tilts towards classic country are heard occasionally, as on “Roll On,” but Valazza is mainly, winningly riding the Laurel Canyon vibe. Valazza recently acknowledges that New Orleans is just one stop on her journey and that Nashville is set to be her next hat-hanging locale. Luckily for listeners, wanderlust suits her just fine. Enjoy these Street life serenades: “Time Is Round,” “Your Heart’s a Tin Box,” “Small Things,” and the title cut.