THE CORDS The Cords (Skep Wax/Slumberland) — Like out-of-the-mainstream band in days of yore, the Cords made their name with the most rough and ready of releases. There was a cassette, there was a flex-disc. Dues paid, the group — comprised of Scottish sisters Eva Tedeschi and Grace Tedeschi — is out with their debut album, a self-titled effort. They’re definitely announcing themselves. The Cords is packed with tunes that pay homage to countless predecessors who peddled their impeccable pop chops in aw-shucks productions that operated in a lower key. Think the Primitives, Tiger Trap, and the like. The whole album is like a warm invitation to hang. Even the cynicism of “Doubt It’s Gonna Change” sounds chipper when dappled with the siblings’ sunshine pop. They avoid the repetitiveness that can dog such bands, routinely finding different gears. There’s the splendidly hyperactive “October” which is met by the jittery “Done with You,” and then they tap into punk raucousness on “You.” The songs are taut enough that the Cords could get by by staying crisp and lean. That makes it a pleasing challenge when they strive for more sonic complexity, as on “Yes It’s True,” where the vocals get airier and are nestled deeply in a cacophonous mix. The Tedeschis are clearly on their way. Follow the strands of these tracks: “Fabulist,” “Bo’s New Haircut,” “Weird Feeling,” and “When You Said Goodbye.”

HANNAH FRANCES Nested in Tangles (Fire Talk) — Hannah Frances knows with certainty that life is complex. The Vermont singer-songwriter clearly takes special care to ensure her music reflects that fundamental truth. Frances’s new album, Nested in Tangles, is as complicated as thought itself. The songs consistently surprise and yet come across as resolutely logical. Of course they need to sound this way. How could they be any different? Frances starts from a place of nineteen-seventies folk, the kind that might as well have included warbles of specific Laurel Canyon addresses in the choruses. From there, Frances explores freely, like Joni Mitchell layering years of experimental instincts onto one Court and Spark. “Life’s Work” tells the tale: It has sturdy folk-rock bones, but the walls have been given an exuberant makeover. The expansiveness is arguably most striking in the layering of “Surviving You,” all overlapping vocals, washes of guitar, and jazzy horn parts flitting in like hummingbirds. The title track is exploratory and luxuriant, with spoken vocals that sound like they’re emanating from an underwater radio. Expertly sequenced, the album meets moments when the creative largess might overwhelm with careful counterbalancing, such as the intricate instrumental “Beholden To.” To achieve all this, Frances occasionally enlists similarly iconoclastic collaborators, notably Daniel Rossen of Grizzly Bear, but the album does truly feel like a pure, personal expression. She is comfortable among the twists and knots. Stay intellectually restless with the following cuts: “Falling from and Further,” “Steady in the Hand,” “The Space Between” and “Heavy Light.”

BAR ITALIA Some Like It Hot (Matador) — On their fifth album, Some Like It Hot, the London-based band Bar Italia serve up a batch of songs that come across like Britpop created by someone who only vaguely remembers what it sounds like. Like the main characters in the film that inspired the album’s name, Bar Italia is wearing a costume that’s not all that convincing under close scrutiny, but the inclination is to go along with it anyway. The trio bring sweeping drama to “The Lady Vanishes” and pulls off gum-snap brusqueness on “Eyepatch.” Bar Italia has been at this long enough that a certain amount of careening through subgenres is understandable. How about some swinging carnival jig that recalls Beirut or early Decemberists, on “bad reputation,” or a big swig of sass, implying that Wet Leg doesn’t have the market corner on that just yet, for the single “Cowbella.” If the album isn’t quite cohesive enough to feel like a proper statement, Bar Italia are definitely positioning themselves as a band with a lot to say. Avoid the fuzzy end of the lollipop with these cuts: “Fundraiser,” “I Make My Own Dust,” and “omni shambles.”