Matthew Friedberger is the more prolific and ambitious half of the art rock duo The Fiery Furnaces. Though that band has released five CDs over the course of the past three and a half years, Friedberger still finds himself turning out new material at a dizzying clip, resulting in "Winter Women" and "Holy Ghost Language School," two distinct albums packaged together as his debut solo release. Though Friedberger is hardly a timid presence on the Furnaces recordings, his voice on these twin albums is far more restrained and mellow, as though he realized that without having to compete with his sister/musical partner's wildly charismatic vocals, he could dial things down a bit and let his voice recede into his elaborate, texture-rich compositions. This tactic has its appeal, but is somewhat frustrating in that on both records, he is attempting to tell stories so rich with concrete details that losing some of his words to slurred enunciation or questionable mixing can mean losing track of the narrative altogether.

In the case of "Her Chinese Typewriter" from "Winter Women," the presence of the lyrics sheet is helpful for those listeners who are sucked into Friedberger's bouncy verses and peppy chorus but can't make out any of his cryptic mutterings about typewriters, eyeshadow, and memos. As it turns out, the song is about a young office worker named Tamara Baxter who cleverly blackmails her superior Mrs. Means after she moves to have her fired for "being late once or twice maybe and too slow a Chinese typist ridiculous!" As with most of Friedberger's stories, the details of the song are so incredibly specific that they become perversely abstract if you don't catch all of his obscure references, which fly by quickly as the song progresses from its perky verses to its anthem-like chorus.

Ratatat straddles the line between rock and electronica. The New York City-based duo offers airtight tracks that meld electric guitar riffs and synthesizer vamps into rock solid grooves that transcend genre. "Loud Pipes," from their optimistically titled sophomore release "Classics," is slightly more laid back than their usual sound. The song settles into a lazier rhythm and meanders off into pensive tangents without ever abandoning its crackling drum track or sense of forward momentum.

Essay Recordings' "Rio Baile Funk: Favela Booty Beats" compilation was the first exposure many Americans had to the mutant strain of dance music known as Funk Carioca, Favela Funk or, somewhat erroneously, Baile Funk. This music developed in the slums of Rio de Janeiro and mixes scraps of Western pop music, Miami booty bass, samba, African drumming, hip-hop and Bahia carnival tunes into something new and totally distinct. If you've ever heard the music, you would have no trouble identifying other tracks from the same genre. There's a sense of sexual urgency and undiluted carnality to Funk Carioca that makes even the lewdest American dance music seem uptight and tame. The hijacked beats are designed for maximum physicality, nearly forcing the listener into submission with a combination of familiarity and primal rhythm. In this track, from the second volume of the "Rio Baile Funk" series, singer Veronica Costa shouts her hip-hopish chants with an authority that matches the intensity of the breakbeats. You don't need to speak a word of Portuguese to understand the basic idea of this song. You may miss some subtleties, but believe me, subtlety is beside the point with this sort of music.