Glitterer, the Washington, D.C., post-hardcore band, has a new record, its fourth full-length album. It’s called erer and it’s on Purple Circle Records, a little label that singer/bassist Ned Russin co-owns. Performed by a revamped lineup — drummer Robin Zeijlon and guitarist Colin Gorman came on board last year, joining singer/bassist Ned Russin and keyboardist Nicole Dao — and recorded by the prolific producer/engineer Arthur Rizk, who has worked on every Glittererer release since 2019, erer is the most thematically urgent work the band has produced to date. It’s also the most immediately and sustainedly ear-pleasing. Paradigmatically, the lead single, “Stainless Steel,” booms Albini-like with sturdy yet subtle drumming, massive stereo guitars, and all manner of counterpoints and complements emanating from the keyboard, in support of a melody — a classic Glitterer melody — that twists and turns, starts and stops, and goes exactly where the listener didn’t remotely realize it needed to go. And in Russin’s typically sapient lyrics we hear, without superfluity or mawkishness, the bewilderment, resignation, anger, guilt, and stubborn commitment to beauty and community that the album exists to express. It’s the dialectical inner monologue of a socially engaged, intellectually curious creative aspirant — a person not unlike yourself — who can’t help but notice that it’s all coming to nothing. “It’s everywhere I turn / I can’t escape / I wish I had ability innate / I wish I wasn’t incapacitated,” Russin sings. ““I’ll pretend that I’m stainless steel / I’ll forget that this all is real.”  What more needs to be said? These are not optimistic times, and this is not, at the textual level, an optimistic record. See for yourself: From “Until”: “There is nothing you can’t have / Don’t be afraid to reach and grab / Take and take with no regret / See if you can find the end / There is always more / Until there’s not” From “Not Forever”: “Arc of progress bend towards me … / Have I grown complacent / After all? … / Self absorbed and so important / Aren’t we all? / Everything and everybody / Individual” And yet, insofar as the lyrics refuse to put any kind of gloss on the emotional truth of the current moment, the music on erer dedicates itself, with intricacy and care, to the listener. A band that wanted only to aggrandize its own precious feelings of alienation wouldn’t go to the trouble of writing choruses and solos as powerful and effective as these. Ever since Glitterer began, in 2017, when Ned Russin began inconspicuously recording and releasing songs out of his New York apartment — short, spooky synth/drum-machine-based existential ditties that made your toe tap and your skin crawl — the songs have reliably gotten brighter, crunchier, catchier, and less ambivalent about their own charms. In this regard, Glitterer’s erer is something of an apotheosis, a record that says, Yes, the world-at-large is miserable and dissolute, but music is eternal and beautiful, and can’t be taken away from us so long as we continue to play it. So that’s what we’re going to do. We have to.