Its follow-up, "Ella Me Dijo," showcasing guest vocalist Emilia Borlone, is one of the disc's more straightforward numbers - or straightforward by comparison, anyway. Boasting a Spanish-guitar-driven salsa groove, the hip-shaker is rendered off-kilter by a squelching, grinding synth rhythm and curiously jagged synth blips and bleeps - Los Amigos Invisibles on a particularly wobbly day, perhaps. "Here" - offering coolly reserved vocals from singer Shayna Ferm - recalls Stereolab in its ba-ba-ba melody and hypnotic pulse, while there's also something in its sleek jazz-pop stylings that brings to mind the sunny-day lounge know-how of Sergio Mendes and Brasil 66. Well, until the shrieking electric guitar solo comes in towards the end, at which point the song becomes a whole other blood-rushing thing entirely.

"In My World" presents the disc's final guest vocalist - Elisita Punto - over a melancholic guitar-and-bass interplay reminiscent of early Tortoise. Meanwhile, a thumb piano pings away a moody, meandering melody, and a host of oddly disorienting atmospheric hums and buzzes - for a Southern Hemisphere counterpart, think Juana Molina on a misanthropic day - threaten to send the track adrift in an oncoming cruel fog.

"Exodo" introduces slide-guitar twang into the mix, lending an intriguing Dixie sadness to the Subercaseaux-sung head-bobbing groove. While predominantly an instrumentalist and composer, Subercaseaux possesses a soulful, expressive baritone, slightly husky but tempered by a "why be serious?" playfulness that brings many charms to "Satsko," whose cartoonish vocals, stoned cadence, and twisted jazz-rock sensibility bears echoes of Os Mutantes and fellow Tropicalians. The same comparisons could be made for the first half of "Pensando Que", thanks to its unhinged vocal delivery and the insertion of occasional odd sound effects - then, midway through, the tune shifts into a fascinating Gotan Project/ambient electronica hybrid that I can imagine will take more than a few listeners by surprise.

For pure Daft Punk/Justice/Midnight Juggernauts squelch-and-groove, "The Illiest" is what the body needs: a talkbox-heavy handclap-happy floor-thumper boasting a bubbling-over bassline and super-saturated synth whinnies. Underneath it all, a subtle acoustic guitar strums away in intricate formations. Of course, most ears will immediately prick up in the direction of that talkbox - how very Roger Troutman!

"NYC" picks up on the Gotan Project thread left earlier on "Pensando Que", this time alluding to the fusionists' electro-tango with ghostly use of the bandoneon over a stuttering, insistent rhythm. (Or maybe that isn't bandoneon and is instead a treated melodica? Come to think of it, there are a few shades of Augustus Pablo in the instrument's haunted sighs.) "Morning Again" revisits the bubbles and gurgles and bird-calls of "Amazonas," but repositions the thumb piano amongst gorgeous Spanish guitar and bandoneon. Meanwhile, Subercaseaux's murmured vocals bring to mind the careful hush of the bossa nova. Ah, the sun, the sea, the sand.

Don't get too comfortable, though: Aqui's last two instrumentals yank the listener from such tranquil surroundings in favor of something a bit more disorientingly subterranean. "Urban Soundscape" is a buzzing hive of electronic gurgles, sputters, and rhythm-twitches, along with muffled voices and echoing footsteps and what sounds like water dripping from pipes.

From there, Subercaseaux trawls a little deeper with "Exit," a static-soaked transmission from the darkest underground in which everything creaks, leaks, and moans. Eventually the synth-splatters and unplaceable atmospheric hum gives way to a torrent of whirring, whining splices of electronic noise, layer upon layer and loop upon loop. As the hum shrinks and swells and at last surges into a final jarring burst, the distance from the opening rainforest murmurs of "Amazonas" couldn't possibly get much further.