THE TUBS Hard Life (Merge) — The four members of the the Tubs have a lot of miles under their wheels. Formed in Wales, the band is semi-officially a spinoff of noise-pop outfit Joanna Gruesome, and fellas on the roster also hold membership cards for a bunch of other groups, such as Ex-Vöid and Sniffany & the Nits. They channel all that developed skill into making fine, forthright rock music. On Hard Life, their third full-length over all and first for Merge, they come across as if they’ve been playing the same much-loved corner bar for a couple decades nonstop. Single “Stoop to Me” lays out the sonic ethos, sounding as if it was a chart-busting hit in an existence where the Grapes of Wrath were the most influential band of the nineteen-nineties. Earnestness goes a long way with material like this, and the Tubs take advantage of that fact; “Didn’t I Say?” picks up where the Frames left off (“Didn’t I say it would fall apart?/ Didn’t I say it would break your heart?/ Didn’t I say when the chips are down/ That no one ever really comes around?”). There’s a pleasing circular churn to “Who’s Gonna Love You Now?” and a new wave tang to “Do Yourself a Favor.” Just when it feels like they’ve locked into one basic mode, the Tubs show they can still surprise by unleashing “The Way It Goes,” which is full, piercing, and angry (“So if we go back to America then it’s over/ Cus I can’t stand another fucking yank/ Telling me they’re sober”). The track is weirdly reminiscent of mid-period Hüsker Dü on the rare occasions when they’d break out the acoustic instruments. The Tubs bring everything they’ve learned to everything they do. These cuts go down easy: “If You Don’t Love Me,” “Now and Then,” and “As Long as You Leave.”

ANGELA AUTUMN Believer (Gar Hole) — Angela Autumn was raised in the portion of the Appalachian Mountains that stretch into Pennsylvania. She currently calls Nashville home and roamed freely to kindred landscapes in Chattanooga, Asheville, and elsewhere while writing songs for her sophomore album, Believer. Accordingly, the album springs from roots that have spread widely. There’s a definite bluegrass twang to the material, and Autumn’s voice keens like she’s trying to make it echo across the glen. Around all this hangs an aura of indie rock and soft psychedelia. “Millionaire Money” has a jabbing wooziness, and the title cut is forceful and intent. As tried and true as the music is, Autumn brings a decidedly modern sensibility to her lyrics. It’s less foreboding wells and rickety shacks and murder ballads and more the travails of existing as a young-ish person in the twenty-first century. Consider “In the South,” a light, warbling ballad that angrily wields a straight razor in the lyrics (“If you won’t be in my band, then you ain’t my man/ Fuck around and find out”). At times, Autumn recalls Adrianne Lenker, the current patron saint of such a sensibility (“Jesus Heist” arguably comes the closest to living up to that lofty comparison), but she’s more often distinctly her own person. Believe it. And believe in the following tracks: “Heavy Tobacco,” “I Don’t Think About You at All,” and “Electric Lizard.”