YACHT's Jona Bechtolt makes glitched-out pop dance experiments that neither digress into monotonous beats nor get weighed down by vocal filler. Guitars are audible as stretched-out sample materials softly sculpted into techno tones. While it's tempting to envision tiny representatives of Bechtolt's rocker and raver sides perched on his shoulders, creating a bipolar pull, it appears electronics, pop, and trad rockisms have found a peaceful coexistence and even produced sturdy hybrid breeds in the Northwest scene from which Bechtolt emerges – one that includes Bobby Birdman, Thanksgiving, and ((VVRSSNN)) – and may even spearhead. He's collaborated with the Blow's Khaela Maricich and toured in Devendra Banhart's band.

Bechtolt's infectious enthusiasm as a live performer doesn't always come across on recordings, which is funny because all his live performances include the type of push-Play-and-freak-out mode that turns many people off from computer-driven music. If you fall into this category, Mega's multimedia package will feel like overkill – I got both a 10-inch record and a CD of the same material packaged with a DVD. It's Bechtolt's sense of gung-ho positivity against the odds that makes YACHT shows a memorable spectacle of interpretive, rubber-jointed dancing and comic laptop abuse. His cutesy sleeve drawings and song explanations approach precious naïveté without ever going off the deep end. He has a self-awareness that could pass for an ironic smirk (example: "This is a song about an unhealthy ex-relationship. Not emo! We're friends and both way-totally happy now! ... Oh, God ... this is getting so LiveJournal-y") if the depth of his sincerity did not shine through.

"Hot Dogs (Iron Cobra Version)" is ridiculously catchy in a DAT Politics vein, and the bass line for "I Love a Computer" helps it qualify for most unlikely summer jam of the year. While I go back and forth on whether "Dans Danmark" is mega-annoying or mega-genius, the sing-song vocal snippet will surely stick in your earfolds long after its initial hearing. The last track, "Now It Is All over Like the Birds," is a stark and pretty Thanksgiving cover rendered folktronic. Bechtolt manages to mash his reference points into a fuzzy blanket with enough rough edges to keep you guessing about where he's coming from and what he's on about. (George Chen)

Jamie Lidell
Multiply (Warp)

Ah, yes, yet another album of soulful R&B from Warp. What?! Yes, the label that is home to Autechre and Squarepusher continues to detonate its brand identity with this sublime slice of vocal-driven funk from Jamie Lidell. But don't worry, this is still some truly out-there music.

Lidell previously worked with Cristian Vogel as Super Collider, and lent his amazing singing to the Matthew Herbert Big Band, but on Multiply, he reins in his more obviously experimental tendencies. In fact, the title track sounds like a lost gem from the Stax/Volt vault, with innocuously plucked guitar and bass lines lilting beneath Lidell's astoundingly expressive voice as he swerves between crooning and belting the curious chorus of "So tired of repeating myself, beating myself up / Gonna take a trip and multiply, at least go under with a smile."

Lidell follows that up with "When I Come Back Around," a tour de funk that marries the manic energy of Little Richard with the grinding grooves of Prince in a song that brilliantly showcases Lidell's talent for songwriting and production (the way he chops both the drums and his vocals from channel to channel should be criminal). While a bit more of the beatboxing that enlivens his epic solo live gigs would be welcome, Multiply is a breakthrough, an album that simultaneously mines the past and the future, the analog and the digital, to deliver a fractured soul freakout that will blow your mind. (Peter Nicholson)

Gorillaz
Demon Days (Virgin)

Who could forget the 2000 self-titled debut with collaborators Dan "the Automator" Nakamura and Del tha Funkee Homosapien dropping singles like "Clint Eastwood"? The long-anticipated second full-length from the most popular cartoon hip-hop band to hit the airwaves is everything fans expected and more: This is not just a hip-hop album. The absence of Dan and Del on Demon Days does smart a little, but Danger Mouse's smooth and on-point production and all-star guest appearances make up for the loss. Catchy, head-bobbin' tracks with recognizable rock samples playing over deep bass lines, synthesized keys, and pop guitar riffs make for a perfectly entertaining road-trip CD.

On the highway, spin your iPod to "Feel Good Inc." The album's first single features the unmatchable flow of De La Soul against the sharp vocals of Gorillaz cocreator Damon Albarn from Blur, thick drum 'n' bass beats, and twangy guitar notes. It has the upbeat feel of a club hit, unlike most tracks on the album.

"Last Living Souls" sounds like someone pushed Play on a prerecorded Casio keyboard beat and mixed it with live instrumentals. The dark and infectious vocals will have you singing the chorus all day. The solidly hip-hop "November Has Come," featuring MF Doom, is an anomaly on the CD; it's more genre-specific, with less sampling than its counterparts.

Gorillaz flip it again with the dub- and grime-inspired "All Alone," showcasing Roots Manuva, and then blow you away when Dennis Hopper's voice echoes out of the speakers on "Fire Coming out of the Monkey's Head." The bluegrass and folk undertones and the humming chorus add to the quirkiness. Just when you thought they'd crammed in everything they could, "Don't Get Lost in Heaven," a gospel-infused track with Beach Boy-like vocals, turns everything around. Have the Gorillaz tried to do too much? you ask. No, this CD just has something for everyone. (Jana Rogers)

Scout Niblett
Kidnapped by Neptune (Too Pure)

With her tiny frame, Hummel-figurine wig, and new Oakland home, Nottingham, UK's Emma Louise Niblett seems rather unassuming. But on her third hauntingly intense record, she proves she's anything but. From the leadoff track, "Hot to Death," Niblett's harrowing vocals color Kidnapped in many shades. They might be curdled screams in the dark or the love howls of a tragic blues singer on a muggy summer's night, but whether they're coming from inside her or her Cindy Sherman-esque stage persona, they're as real as real gets.

More intently than on past recordings, Niblett redefines minimal rock and folk, stripping the genres to their bare essentials and at times employing a Reichian approach to lyrical and instrumental arrangement. The title track coalesces with a stream of "shoop-shoop"s and a repetitive refrain ("Where have you been / Where have you been?") posed so many times, one gets the sense Niblett is subconsciously pulling from both Diana Ross's "Theme from Mahogany (Do You Know Where You're Going To?)" and Leadbelly's "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?," asking several questions while only singing one. Perhaps it's also a bit of the Steve Albini production wand at work, but Niblett manages to scale down these ditties to core functions so that the songs practically sing themselves. They're now skeletal tunes with hardly a drape of creamy skin dangling from their lanky structures.

Even when she punches it up a notch, like with the rumbling bass line of "Lullaby for Scout in Ten Years" – almost a redux of her guitar heroes, Nirvana – or on the grungy, soft-hard-soft cadence of "Good to Me," Niblett plays sonic extremes against one another with aplomb and purpose. At one moment, she's slinging trudging, distorted power chords; at the next, it's all softly hewn, heartrending tearjerkers. She's Goldilocks, Raggedy Ann, and Polly Jean Harvey in equal parts. Scout Niblett plays Sat/2, 12 Galaxies, SF. (415) 970-9777. (Ken Taylor)