THE WOMACK SISTERS The Womack Sisters (Daptone) — There are so many names a pop group can adopt. BG, Zeimani, and Kucha Womack didn’t have to put their last name right out there and invite the intimidating comparisons that come from declaring a lineage than encompasses no less than Womack & Womack (mom and dad) and Sam Cooke (gramps). It’s the height of hubris unless you’ve got the goods. The Womack Sisters have absolutely got the goods. Their self-titled debut full-length is a dazzling testament to the glory of soul music. “If You Want Me” could have come right off of the Hot Wax Records back in the nineteen-seventies, and “Monster” is a deep soul ballad. The Womacks honor their predecessors while moving resolutely forward. Even “If I Let You” proves they can deploy a nasally organ and clap-along rhythm with the best of them, there’s just enough modern flair to escape retro repetitiveness. Consider the sharp meta flourishes found in the lyrics of “Didn’t Mean Much to Me”: “Did you think I was stuck on you?/ Well, you had me wrong, boy/ ‘Cause you never even crossed my mind/ Until I had to sing this song.” Tay-Swift wishes she could diss so finely. “My Sisters and Me” closes the album with a manifesto of familial strength. The Womacks sing, “People come and go/ Baby, this I know/ It will always be my sisters and me.” That bond sure does groove. In addition to those already mentioned, check the following: “Chauffeur,” “Laughter and Tears,” “You Went Away Too Long,” and “All Around.”

SQUIRREL FLOWER Say a Prayer to the Gods of Getting Going (Polyvinyl) — Ella Williams is the sort of songwriter who makes it feel like she’s invited the listener to root around in her psyche. All of the tracks on Say a Prayer to the Gods of Getting Going, her sixth full-length under the name Squirrel Flower, have a quiet clarity, as if they shimmered into being as fully formed expressions rather than from the usual trial-and-error progress of creation. That’s not to sell Williams short. The craft is there. “Cleveland” shows a mastery of the dream pop aesthetic with a song that drifts and soars at the same time. Squirrel Flower pulls off airy folk of “Highway Woman” and vintage indie rock on “Reelin’.” There’s a hint that she’s absorbed — or more likely helped shape — part of Chicago’s current scene on “Sick Tooth,” which is the right kind of messy. Even so, the album might be most memorable in the moments when it slows down enough to really let Williams’s songwriting gleam. “Not Me,” for example, isn’t far from Adrianne Lenker territory. The album is open, vulnerable, and steely smart. Go get these tracks: “Helicopters,” “Foot Thick Ice,” And “Surfing USA.”