Radio Zumbido's third full-length effort is in part a documentation of L.A. like those films which steer away from obvious locations in the city to show, in an artful sense, what life there can really be like -- it's the audio equivalent of the grungy, overheated side streets in Repo Man or the apartment buildings in Pulp Fiction, uniquely of the city without forcing the issue. Juan Carlos Barrios, aka Radio Zumbido himself, draws on a slew of instruments and sounds to interweave the feeling of the busy collage of music one can hear on the streets of the city -- multiple percussion styles and breaks in particular are the punctuating moments of the album as a whole -- with his own particular vision, further shaped by his life in Barcelona and elsewhere. Thus there's a range from the drawn-out but still sweetly attractive acid psychedelia of "El Desierto," a bit of Santana spliced with Savage Republic, to the careful collage of a Mexican radio DJ or MC, accordions, echoing dub moves and feedback snarl of the wittily titled "Everybody Wants to be Manu Chao These Days." (Barrios' sense of song titles is excellent throughout -- one gently sad late-night blues number is called "Dolorcito.") There's a beautiful grace on many of the tracks, sometimes on the quickest -- thus "Petit Llampec," which in its combination of guitar chime and understated clatter and beat feels universal rather than specifically grounded in any context. Sometimes the combinations are simple but perfect, as with the gently Boards of Canada-like melody riding atop the busy drum jams of "Revuelta," or the big-and-deep hip-hop break with distorted and compressed swirls of mariachi arrangements floating atop "La Mexican Cornershop." On balance this is a surprising and engaging album that rewards re-listening -- something new always seems to be around the corner. ~ Ned Raggett

Any album featuring Thurston Moore, Jon Spencer, and Dinosaur Jr.'s J Mascis, and Murph would almost seem like a supergroup effort from the 1990s, so their appearances on Cobra Killer's 2009 Uppers and Downers gives a clear sense of past champions being given their due by a newer generation. The fact that said representatives of the newer generation are Cobra Killer gives it a better twist than most, though, since the German duo's twisted way around scuzzy/snarky new wave dance-punk for a new century is its own merry aesthetic. Five albums and a decade into their formal partnership under the Cobra Killer name, Gina V. D'Orio and Annika Line still sound like they revel in their own way around pop on their own terms with a fresh burst of youth, shifting from bright chirpiness and clatter on "Hello Celebrity" and "Mr. Chang," to sly swing on "Vitamine" and "Schneeball in Die Fresse," all while sounding like nobody but themselves, rather than simply an assembly of their many favorites. When their voices cross in call and response on "Skibrille" over an arrangement that's part garage jam, part wheezing machinery, and part minimal glitch percussion, the result is pure, sharp joy. Perhaps the ultimate testament to Cobra Killer's complete confidence in their own aesthetic is how the various guest players are used -- "Hang Up the Pinup" features Mascis, Murph, and Moore, but they all smoothly slot into the duo's compressed, one-room-over rush of noise that the singing rings across with both clarity and echo, giddiness that's at once alien and rollicking. ~ Ned Raggett