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Thanks to Cedric Bixler-Zavala's inability to write lyrics that make any literal sense whatsoever, the burden of bringing narrative coherence to the Mars Volta's interstellar, prog-funk finger paintings falls to the band's pedal-prone guitarist.

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Sexual confusion, sibling rivalry, fear of death: On 2005's gut-twisting I Am a

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Fleet Foxes' comparatively glossy production and gentle harmonizing almost seem cartoonish when paired with the world-weary solo albums of the Seattle band's drummer,

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Like much of the sample-driven pop coming out of Gothenburg, Sweden (Jens Lekman, the Tough Alliance, El Perro Del Mar, Studio), Air France's debut album is a work of widescreen bliss, a collage of clubby bass lines, kids' voices, disco strings, marimbas, and the occasional whinnying horse. But for every jubilant melody, there's a dose of melancholy.

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When he records solo as El Guincho, Pablo Díaz-Reixa sometimes gets pegged (a bit unfairly) as the Spanish Panda Bear. So it's not surprising that his other band could be called (a bit unfairly) the Spanish Animal Collective.

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Drums. Pure, awesome drums. They swarm this album, spiky and syncopated Latin-style, rockin' and krautin' and Bollywoodin', smacking the inside of your speakers, urging you to sway hips and thwack steering wheels.