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If Arctic Monkeys' sturdy, acutely British version of punk evokes rows of brick council houses, then Good Shoes' thin and light variation calls to mind a quickly assembled movie set of the same. Instead of dirty distortion, there's a cleanliness to the intertwining, treble-happy guitars that buoys singer Rhys Jones' romance-weary lyrics. No attachments, nothing lasts, next tune, please.

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Fuck Buttons linger on the edge of what safely can be called music -- your extended family would likely consider the majority of this British duo's debut "an awful racket" -- but when they ease back on the overdriven electronic intensity, Street Horrrsing works tribal, trancelike wonders.

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Eponymous albums are the Warped nation's new branding statements, with Avenged Sevenfold and Simple Plan the most high-profile reinventions prior to this Florida quartet's latest. But on their third full-length, FFTL are also finessing the loss of their lead singer -- newly minted solo artist Sonny Moore -- and their relaunch is bumpier.

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Fans of Battles' obsessive-compulsive electro-funk will find much to love in the impressive debut by this young British group, who decamped to Brooklyn to make Antidotes with TV on the Radio's Dave Sitek and the Antibalas horns.

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Hailing from upstate New York, near where Bob Dylan and the Band cut The Basement Tapes, the Felice Brothers (three siblings and a friend) aspire to the weird, woozy vibe of that great album, and often approach it. Ian Felice seems to be battling a massive hangover as he sings about unreliable lowlifes who carry firearms, hatch dubious schemes, and get into woman trouble.

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If Britney Spears channeled her bipolar instability into bizarre dance music, she still wouldn't sound as disoriented as this creepy Brooklyn ensemble. On their sixth album, distant, disembodied voices collide with hilariously lo-fi drum-machine crashes and rubbery synths.