Dance music snaps its finger, shakes its hips, and grounds the listener in the corporeal and the present. Dub, on the other hand, mimics the out-of-body experience, where the mind travels outward, far beyond the worm's-eye-view of compact sound and into the multilayered rings of the musical subconscious. Echoes, reverbs, and dissections of individual tones and beats trip listeners into the stoned dub cosmos, where an infinite number of warm, psychedelic washes emanate with liquid ease.

Scottish ambient techno hippies Boards of Canada create a darkly erotic, modernized take on the traditional dub aesthetic with their second full-length album for Warp, the U.K.-based label that's home to artsy techno pioneers such as Aphex Twin, Autechre, Plaid, and LFO. Subtle continuity is the genius of Geogaddi, on which a succession of melancholic, rainy-day melodies and outer-planetary sound bites float over narcotic, teasing rhythms. Moods shift gradually from aural images of warped, childhood angst to naked, adult desire, which are exquisitely expressed through dub-affected vocal quips and hazy atmospherics. BOC's Michael Sandison and Marcus Eion – they sound like gothic wood nymphs who like tantric sex and drink a lot of mushroom tea – bring a lush humanness to their electronics, which never feel icily computerized or tech driven. Unlike some of their labelmates, BOC keep it organically musical and never get caught up in bad IDM habits like overusing static and jerky dissonance.

Because all 23 tracks remain in a similar tempo and emotional sphere, Geogaddi could be misconstrued as lacking dynamics – and certainly, such a long album could potentially bore one to tears. But as with DJ Krush's 1999 Kakusei, an epic collection of dubby hip-hop dreamscapes that pulse within narrow boundaries of temperament, the album's subliminally divine message is only absorbed by consuming it whole. Geogaddi unveils its otherworldly beauty during an hourlong ride in languid layers, presenting a reverie-imbued vision of music as heard from afar. (Amanda Nowinksi)

Mats Gustafsson, Greg Goodman, and George Cremaschi
They Were Gentle and Pretty Pigs (Beak Doctor)

Some say the renewal of culture must come from those banished to the margins and working under the imprimatur of taboo (or in "the nether world of curiosity," as Woody Woodman puts it). If that's true, behold your future in the fanciful musical barnyard inhabited by pianist Greg Goodman, Swedish saxophonist Mats Gustafsson, and bassist George Cremaschi. Borrowing its title (and cover illustration) from Jean de Bosschere's 1920 novel The City Curious, the first CD on Goodman's resurrected Berkeley record label offers nine freely improvised "movements." The music arises from the intersection, entwining, and collision of sounds largely generated by such extended techniques as scraping the piano strings or making various objects vibrate atop them, overblowing and shouting through the saxophone's reed or popping its pads, and plucking, bowing, and slapping the bass. To those habituated to conventional and potentially narcotic definitions of musical organization, it could all sound random and anarchic. Attended to with the same openness and intense concentration brought to bear by the musicians, however, the dynamic relationships between "noises" reveal an inner logic and peculiar beauty.

Gustafsson, who has played with Barry Guy, Ken Vandermark, Jim O'Rourke, Hamid Drake, and Marilyn Crispell, once recorded an album titled Mouth Eating Trees and Related Activities. That image might come to mind during especially guttural and gobbling passages here. Tightly focused piano melodies and thick reed and bass textures ultimately exert their influence, and by the end of the final movement you can't tell the different between the nightmare and the lullaby that put you there. Mats Gustafsson, Greg Goodman, and George Cremaschi play Thurs/14, Mills College, Mills Concert Hall, Oakl. (510) 430-2296; Fri/15, Woody Woodman's Finger Palace, Berk. (510) 528-1023. (Derk Richardson)

Various artists
The Groove Corporation Presents Remixes from the Elephant House (Guidance)

Things go in cycles. That's the simplest, and perhaps best, explanation of Groove Corporation's updated take on roots reggae, the stylistic blueprint behind most of the material found on Remixes from the Elephant House.

Though G-Corp. pay homage to their dub forefathers, their intent is not so much to evoke nostalgia as to further a universal dancehall vibe. This is apparent from the first track, a remix of "Cocaine in My Brain" that tacks on fattened drums, background sound effects, and new breakdowns to the original bass line and guitar lick. Dillinger's description of New York as "a knife, a fork, a bottle and a cork" remains as on point as ever. Similarly, the lyrics of "Police and Thieves" – voiced here by Luciano – still ring true (especially post-Sept. 11). G-Corp.'s heavy dub influence is placed front and center on tracks like "Legalise It" (featuring UB40), "Peace Time," "Dub Remedies," and "Concrete Jungle."

The album's best cuts – remixes of the Wailers' "Put It On," the Congos' "Hold Us Down," and Yabby You's "Conquering Lion" – could find equal favor with roots purists and clubheads. The only missteps, a just-average rendition of Martha and the Muffins' "Echo Beach" and a so-so interpretation of Bobby Womack's "Across 110th Street," are more than compensated for by the off-the-hook ragga version of Cream's "Sunshine of Your Love" – sung by Ella Fitzgerald (!). Remix compilations always seem dubious, yet G-Corp. make this collection feel like a full album, one that knows there is no future without a past. (Eric K. Arnold)

Neil Michael Hagerty
Plays That Good Old Rock and Roll (Drag City)

We've had two solo Neil records, the first of which took me almost a year to digest and come to terms with, but I could have saved a lot of time if I had bought that Shuggie Otis record sooner. The thing I had trouble with on Neil Michael Hagerty was the up-front nature of the lyrics. Years of listening to the Trux's weirdo beatnik mumbling left me unprepared for Neil to say he's hurt and pissed and he wishes he could get high. Really, that sort of nakedness is a rare thing to hear in rock music and an even rarer thing to pull off successfully.

With Plays That Good Old Rock and Roll, Hagerty continues to make the transition from son of Keith to emotionally available singer-songwriter, and at times it appears that he's even found God. Weird. A bunch of songs have, um, strings and a decidedly female voice singing backup, not like Jennifer at all (which is fine; I mean, isn't she in Rage Against the Machine now anyway?), but there is the song "Louisa La Ray," which has a breakdown where the band begins to groove and Neil goes off. And for someone who doesn't do drugs anymore, the opening track, "Gratitude," is a perfect anthem for the daily ritual of a pothead.