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

The avant-garde, as a general catchall term for sound experimenters in this case, transcends national and cultural boundaries as much now as it ever did in previous decades and centuries, which is why it's no real surprise to hear the work on Chinese artist Changcun Wang's The Mountain Swallowing Sadness as something with roots ranging from Merzbow's power electronics to (texturally rather than specifically) Ligeti's innovations with string arrangements. Sub Rosa is a logical label for Wang's work to gain wider recognition from, to be sure, and this two-track effort is worth a listen for those interested in such approaches. The first and much longer of the two pieces, at nearly 40 minutes, "Grand Hotel" is described by Wang as his wanting to "erect a building in the ear," though the fact that initially the building sounds more like something Einst�rzende Neubaten would be tearing down is perhaps appropriate. Still, as the wash of layers upon layers of metallic and static and feedback mutates throughout it actually does suggest a swooping structure of sorts; at its roughest sonically, it suggests Harry Bertoia's sound sculptures come to monstrous life, while many pauses and quieter moments, increasing as the track progresses, suggest distance and murkier corners of the mental edifice in question, akin to the unsettling work of Robert Hampson in Main but with less obsessive focus on rhythm. "King of Image 1995," meanwhile, is based on a tape Wang found that documented a funeral service of an unknown-to-him person. It's a fairly straightforward presentation in comparison to "Grand Hotel," with the chanting of (presumably) Buddhist nuns forming the core -- the effect is quite haunting and captivating all at once, especially when the nuns suddenly shift to a swift, staccato delivery. Had it been on a Sublime Frequencies compilation, nobody would have blinked, which makes its inclusion here all the more interesting in context. ~ Ned Raggett