sampledelica/trip-hop

Portland duo Lilacs & Champagne conjure a heady fragrance on their self-titled debut (Mexican Summer), like a musty old perfume whose sweetness gets queasy as it lingers. Settling in the space between RJD2's monster-movie trip-hop, Malachai's cut-and-paste freakshow psych-rock and the recycled-kitsch downtempo of Quiet Village, L&C weave all manner of exhumed dollar-bin artifacts into a swampy, surreal mood record that muddles the distinction between chilling out and just plain chilling. —K. Ross Hoffman

electro-folk/pop

After gloomgazing gorgeously on her debut, Welsh wunderwraith Cate Le Bon sets sail for smoother waters on CYRK (Control Group), but the shadows still loom: Synths plow churchily, basses buzz, angelic vocals delay and drop. Piano keys tumble in a lumbering cascade on "Through the Mill." On the moodily waltzing "Julia," a single stuttering note repeats like Morse code from a ship about to wreck. Le Bon crashes Kung Fu Necktie on Saturday (Feb. 11, kungfunecktie.com). —Patrick Rapa

soundtrack/instrumental

It's hard to imagine a more utterly perfect project for über-cinematic, über-Frenchy space-cadets Air than soundtracking George Méliès' 1902 classic Trip To the Moon — of newfound Hugo-related fame. This is a duo, remember, who actually named their debut album Moon Safari. While it may not reach those heights, Le Voyage Dans Le Lune (Astralwerks) is some of their oddest and most readily enjoyable work in a while, indulging their habitual proggy '70s jones but ditching the lightweight pop of their last few records for something a bit more cosmic and freaky. —K. Ross Hoffman

drums/vocals

In the Yard, the self-released second weirdo percussion-and-voice effort from Neal Morgan (drummer for Joanna Newsom and Bill Callahan), has more in common with the tribal grooves and self-sampling of tUnE-YarDs than the hippie circle at your local Occupy outpost. About half the album is driven by propulsive and/or improvised drumming (check "Fathers Day"); the other by vocal explorations (like the echoing "On a Cut Hill"). Permeated with haunting hooting and arrhythmic polyrhythms, the proceedings are disorienting — but enjoyably so. —Brian Howard