Jupe Jupe, Crooked Kisses (out now, self-released, jupejupemusic.com) I’ve been waiting for a solid, moody glam-pop album pretty much since the hoopla for the Killers’ Hot Fuss died down. And while Brandon Flowers’ 2010 solo effort, Flamingo, came close, it wasn’t exactly what I was looking for. Thankfully, the newest release from this Seattle quartet helps to fill that niche. Composed of My Young on vocals and synthesizer, Bryan Manzo and Patrick Partington on guitar, and drummer Jarrod Arbini, Jupe Jupe’s previous two releases, Invaders and Reduction in Drag, garnered the band attention for sleek, layered soundscapes and dissections of pop culture. With swells of haunting synthesizers, spooky vocals, craggy guitars, and thundering electronic beats, Kisses picks up where those left off. In truth, this version of Jupe Jupe proves to be a mix of the Killers and the Kaiser Chiefs (circa We Are The Angry Mob) even if Young’s vocals don’t match the standout tones of either of those acts. Yet Young’s melancholic drawl paired with a stunning mix of glam and goth results in a unique take on electro-pop that’s equally tragic and danceable. The band also channels British new-age classics on the latter half of the album, specifically in the Cure-esque delivery of tracks like “Hollow” and “New Stars in the Sky.” But it’s standouts “Love to Watch You Fall” and “All The Things We Made” that keep the 10-track collection interesting. It’s in their glittery, pulsing arrangements that Crooked Kisses’ themes of love, lust, and heartache fully breathe. (3/11, El Corazon) KEEGAN PROSSER

Pillar Point, Pillar Point (out now, Polyvinyl Records, pillarpointmusic.com) Literary scholars often use the phrase “laughter through tears” to describe the work of 19th-century Russian author Nikolai Gogol, a master of satire who wrote surreal stories about people’s noses running away from their faces and strange men collecting the spirits of dead serfs by going door-to-door and convincing landowners of the tax benefits of his soul-reaping. The stories are funny, but undergirding them is a distinct sadness—a critique of the fallacies of Russia’s ailing social structure dressed up in fun. Pillar Point’s Scott Reitherman is no stranger to Russian literature; his biggest hit to date, “Lolita,” from his previous band Throw Me the Statue, references Vladimir Nabokov’s controversial masterpiece. Nabokov, who once called Gogol “the greatest artist that Russia has yet produced,” might also dig Reitherman if he were alive to hear his work. On the surface, Pillar Point is a glossy, fun dance record full of the kind of pitched-up 8-bit synths that propelled Passion Pit to stardom. But underneath all the fun pop structures are plenty of tears. “My parents got divorced,” Reitherman told me last October. “I also had a separation with my girlfriend. Most of the songs deal with that, and the project was kind of born out of that . . . I hope it makes people shake their butts, for sure, and work something out emotionally at the same time.”  Teary-eyed butt-shaking is what makes the LP so interesting. On album standout “Black Hole,” a fun rim-click drumbeat rides Zelda-esque video-game bleeps while Reitherman laments, “Baby’s got a black hole between the eyes/And for a little I can’t tell she’s crying.” While Reitherman may have embraced electronics on this album, inherent in the sonic shift from Throw Me the Statue is a subversive critique of digital culture. On “Curious of You,” he coos, “Let it all fall to pieces/When you’re hugging a cell phone/Limp on the bathroom floor” as one of his trademark chintzy Casio beats clatters along underneath ebullient synth chords. Pillar Point’s tension between the dancing and the crying makes for some clever cognitive dissonance—elevating what would otherwise be a straightforward electro-pop record to something much more compelling. (March 5, Vermillion) KELTON SEARS

Various artists, Suicide Squeeze Records Presents: Forever Singles (out now, Suicide Squeeze, suicidesqueeze.bigcartel.com) The 7˝ single format has a special place in punk and garage-rock history. Trading singles and discovering new bands helped forge a community, not to mention gave vinyl collectors with rarities and “holy grails” to seek out. Seattle’s Suicide Squeeze continued the dream with its Forever Singles series, releasing limited-run split singles from trending fuzzed-out groups like King Tuff and JEFF the Brotherhood. For this release, all those tracks have been compiled into one limited-edition LP for a fast and ferocious ride. In some ways, compiling these tracks takes away from the allure and thrill of finding that perfect single, but it makes sense. For those who haven’t been following the recent garage-rock resurgence, this collection is a solid recap that succinctly captures the genre’s varying styles. Meat Market’s “Too Tired” represents furious guitar freakouts and gang vocals, while La Luz’  “T.V. Dream” takes to surf melodies and copious amounts of reverb. The more obscure tracks are really the heart and soul of the album and of the Forever Singles concept. The new-wave beat and crunchy guitars of Davila 666’s “No Crees Que Ya Cansa” feels like a forgotten but fantastic 45 found at the bottom of a stack of dusty records—the type of track collectors hope to stumble upon—while Nu Sensae’s goth-tinged “Throw” feels troubled and menacing and perfectly satisfying for young-adult angst. Forever Singles may take the thrill out of the vinyl hunt, but it’s for the greater good. DUSTY HENRY