Something was wrong. On the second night in Prague shooting the documentary Anvil! The Story of Anvil, cinematographer Chris Soos approached director Sacha Gervasi looking deadly serious.

The members of Ra Ra Riot are close, but only to a point. "With girls in the band, booger placement is an issue," says bassist Mathieu Santos, 23. "You have to be more secretive." Cellist Alexandra Lawn, 23, isn't buying it: "It seems like you're more open about it."

It's a stifling July day in Pittsburgh, and Gregg Gillis, a.k.a. Girl Talk, is dressed accordingly: soccer shorts, white T-shirt, and a bandanna around his forehead. After releasing 2006's Night Ripper, the pop-savvy cut-and-paster quit his biomedical engineer job and went from playing tiny underground venues to chaotic dance parties around the globe.

A beaming Noel Gallagher strolls across the floor of a North London photo studio enthusing about a new and exciting phase of his life, looking lean and reasonably healthy in every­bloke casualwear: blue checked shirt, jeans, and desert boots.

For an impish sprite with a wardrobe full of starry aqua ankle boots and fishnet tights, Kevin Barnes is surprisingly intense when it comes to volleyball. It's a numbing summer night in Athens, Georgia, and we're engaged in some serious business in Normaltown, the larky boho haven that Barnes calls home.

Tom Clarke is bleeding, but he couldn't be happier. The Enemy UK's frontman mangled his hand on his guitar at the band's first-ever American show, a mid-afternoon slot on a sweltering side stage at Lollapalooza in August. A few hundred watched and a few dozen pogoed -- decidedly fewer than the thousands the Enemy UK draw at home -- but Clarke considers it a triumph.