When, the first UK release by Vincent Gallo, isn't his first foray into off-screen music. Fans of the infamously awkward auteur will of course know him for some of the mind-blowing soundtracks he created for indie films throughout the 80s and 90s, culminating in the backdrop for his surreal and amusing gem Buffalo 66. But he was also involved in a number of punk-rock outfits prior to his career in film, as well as a spell in Basquiat's experimental art-noise band Gray. With this in mind it's quite difficult to know exactly what to expect from When, especially with its release on Warp records, renowned for their experimental electronica. The result is in fact a very simple selection of beautiful jazz meanderings ("I Wrote This For The Girl Paris Hilton"), obsessively sweet lullabys ("Apple Girl") and woozy, drifting instrumentals created completely without the aid of digital technology. Gallo's haunting vocals, far more prominent than in previous releases, make for disturbing listening. Full of high pitched, intimate and desperate whisperings-especially on tracks such as the sickly "Honey Bunny" and "Yes I'm Lonely"-he adds to the strangely hypnotic and sugary quality that dominates this fine collection of bizarre love songs. -Caroline Butler.

Money Mark, a. k. a. Mark Ramos-Nishita, made his name playing keyboards with the Beastie Boys, and he's an expert at pulling funk out of anything with buttons on it-the more obsolete, the better. Push the Button, his second album, finds him moving away from the instrumental soul-groove quickies of his previous LP, Mark's Keyboard Repair, and toward, well, new wave songs-with singing. Ramos-Nishita's songs are unexceptional but pleasant; his arrangements are what make them work, especially the delicious keyboard parts. About half of Push the Button is still throwaway instrumentals-75 seconds of bossa nova, two minutes of organ-and-melodica doodling. They're Money Mark's real forte and have a genuine soulfulness that comes more easily to his hands than to his voice. -Douglas Wolk.

In Air's City Reading an ambitious challenge is met with aplomb. The project centres principally around the literary talents of Italy's Alessandro Baricco. Following on from Air's previous work this is an ambitious concept piece that consolidates their soundtrack work to date. This time the emphasis is on providing a subtle accompaniment to Baricco's dark Western tales penned through the hand of his alter-ego creation "Shatzy". Translated, the tales centre on dusty mid-western towns with accounts of twisted whore house activity, paedophilia and upright walking dogs. It's curious and ominous subject matter, understood and realised by the sparse instrumentation that JB Dunckel and Nicholas Godin understand best. Hanging synth-lines, whistling wind, acoustic guitar (perhaps a homage to the classic Alessandroni spaghetti sound) and silence allow Baricco's reading to have full effect. Those who would rather not hear some of the stark content should rest at ease: Baricco's lucid, Gainsbourg-like tones smooth the experience, although a book with a literal translation is included. This is dark yet beautiful. -Found Sounds.

That FSOL's Papua New Guinea is a classic record is an undisputed fact. Celestial choir voices, colourful bird song, nebulous synth swirls and wistful flute all conspire to conjure up images of a tropical paradise, and its iridescent beauty has touched many a soul over the years. Whether it justifies an entire album's worth of remixes though (all done by FSOL) is a different matter. The opening track is the original version-so far so good. The "Papsico" mix takes the tune up to even higher plateaus of happy escapism, while translation number three, "The Lovers", ushers in a slick jazz-funk groove and added bongos. However, at the end, a particularly lengthy electric guitar solo sneaks in. This is the turning point. The initial chinks of doubt are widened as the "Wooden Ships" mix employs even more guitars for a slightly epic, prog-rock remix. Things get back to the dancefloor for a second on the breakbeat-fuelled "Great Marmalade Mama In The Sky" mix but less than a minute in and guess what? Yep, more Clapton-style squeals. By the time you hit the deplorable "Requiem", you realise the whole thing is an indulgent farce and FSOL have let the hype go to their heads. [+]

Beaucoup Fish is Underworld's third studio album and sees them return to form after a slightly lacklustre second LP (Second Toughest In The Infants). Not that this latest missive from the famous trio (Darren Emerson, Karl Hyde and Rick Smith) possesses the same raw energy as their debut Dubnobasswithmyheadman, but it does benefit from differences such as more experimental use of sounds, slicker production and a generally more intricate feel. The albums opener "Cups" is a case in point, a subtle, fluid grower that sees Hyde's usually excitable vocals toned down and more ensconced in the mix. The trio show that they are still fond of pumping chemical onslaughts though with the redoubtable "Push Upstairs" and other thumping club tracks like "Jumbo", "Something Like A Mama", "Kittens and Moaner". The trio have obviously decided to try a few new things out on this LP too, such as "Shudder/King of Snakes", which starts with a wonky Oriental vibe before morphing into nine minutes of drum-fuelled propulsion and heavy sounds. Hyde's voice-which comes close to a kind of rhythmic scatting here-continues to stay low for the most part (though fans can still discern his nonsensical lyrics), becoming more assertive on tracks like the mellow, beatless Skym. Elsewhere, tracks like "Bruce Lee" sees Underworld experiment with a hip hop beat and some Dadaist vocals, and with some meandering breakbeat on "Something Like a Mama", though neither track seems to come off terribly well. If anything, this album proves that Underworld are best when they stick to their classic, distinctive club sound. -Paul Sullivan.