Lost Friends, Middle Kids’ forthcoming debut on Domino, is the kind of album that sucker-punches you in the gut, revealing its nuances only after repeated listens. Its 12 songs veer from brittle blasts of indie rock, to elegiac piano ballads, to pop anthems destined to ignite stadium singalongs. The songs’ edges have been kept jagged, the production clean, the band keen to let stray imperfections imbue warmth and a human touch. As the lyricist, Hannah Joy is unflinching in her ruminations, which often reflect not only the world’s turbulent state of affairs, but also the optimism and joy that keep us afloat. “That’s so much a thread throughout this album” she explains. “Even though things are tough, it’s worth believing in something good and in the idea that we can heal. And in some ways, I wanted the music to be beautiful and a respite from what’s going on.” Lost Friends is indeed beautiful, and yet it’s also a strange brew of skittering tempos, melodies that suddenly shift from major to minor chords, and rhythmic interludes that set the band apart from its peers. But then, Joy, Fitz, and Day have always been musical chameleons with outsized aspirations. All three members share at least one common thread, though: They know how to craft classic hooks and riffs that tangle up in your brain like taffy and choruses that linger long after the song has faded. And they’ve bonded over a greater sense of what their music should accomplish. “We are obsessive about music, but we don’t see music as the end point. We see it as an amazing force of connection,” Joy says. “We’re really committed to each other as people first, and then the music comes out of that place.