Tracy Dell has arrived with her latest single, “American Blood,” a glorious nod to the high-octane golden days of 80s and 90s rock that defined a generation. This track explodes with distorted riffs and the inevitable spark of a Gen-X spirit that will not go gently into the night. Longtime fans may recognize the seasoned singer-songwriter as Tracy DeLucia, but with Dell, her new name is a reawakening. Her previous efforts hinted at the sweeter side of country pop, “American Blood” is Tracy rolling down the windows, flicking the switch, and letting her rebellious roots drive.

Produced by Kent Wells of Dolly Parton board work, the tune vibrates with raw energy, smart hooks, and memories you don’t need to be an ’80s baby to understand. With the residual echoes of defiance, Dell captures the beautiful chaos that shaped a generation in which music was both escape and identity. Her voice, grainy and urgent, is accompanied by explosive instrumentation drenched with high-octane guitars that feel like it was meant for turnpike speakers and garage parties alike. And the best part is that there is no glossing over the attitude.

If you have ever parked under the 7-Eleven lights, blasting alt-rock tunes with the windows fogged and dreams ignited, “American Blood” will feel like coming home. Tracy Dell is recapturing a feeling. One that is wild and loud and gloriously alive. With “American Blood,” Dell is playing a nod to her past, she’s stomping it straight into the present, guitar in hand and her legacy in tow. Tracy Dell showed up, and she brought Gen-X’s soul with her.

San Francisco Bay Area artist Forrest Hill has a timely and moving message in his new single, “Can’t Wait For A Savior.” It’s about staying close to the ground. Hill, who has a rough voice and brutal honesty, reflects on his experiences with current events and the hushed revolution that begins within. “Can’t Wait For A Savior” isn’t Hill’s first go-round with significant music, the Boston-based funk-rock band Judy’s Tiny Head, in which he sang, and his experiments in songwriting, have shown that he knows how notable concepts to weave around a sharp melody.

On “Can’t Wait For A Savior,” Hill turns internally and belts out a track that sounds like it was written in the soft quiet of a long, restless evening but was also played to the ears of anyone who wants a sign. The opening energy of the song is understated. He leaves just enough warmth and structure to enable space for the words to pierce. Hill does not hurry with the words but gives them ample time to unravel with a degree of commitment and lucidity that only age can offer. There is no boasting here, no over-polished production. He is just a songwriter who has grown comfortable with laying his soul out in the wild. “Can’t Wait For A Savior” reveals resurgent strength.

Taking to the limit the idea that some white knight would rescue us in our period of need, Hill implies that everything must come from within. As politics attacks us, his invitation to personal accountability and peaceful commitment is optimistic and calm extreme. Yet the emotional characteristics of the song are most important. Hill isn’t lecturing but empathizing. The harmonies are infused, and the rhythms are measured. This is music made for those who think and feel deeply. Sometimes, the most effective songs are those that do not seek to save us but to shake us into life.