Gnarls Barkley, St. Elsewhere (Downtown/Atlantic)

From the very opening, where a film projector starts to unspool into a vibrant Middle European hora that sounds like Gogol Bordello doing "Hava Nagilah," only to segue into a Danger Mouse mash-up techno jam, with preacher Cee-Lo leading the charge, this hipster record of the moment makes you feel cool just listening to it.

Argue all you want whether it's alternative or hip-hop; it's that rare album that straddles genres like a tightrope walker, seguing from the Marvin Gaye-like plaints of the one-listen "Crazy" to a spot-on rendition of Violent Femmes' "Gone Daddy Gone" that evokes the spirit of '80s new wave pop in all its hook-happy glory. "The Boogie Monster" is just a 21st century update of Screamin' Jay Hawkins, while the closing "The Last Time" plugs into the sheer hedonism of great dance music, abandoning the head to seize the gut with "All work and no play that's the way it is, ain't it/There's a rhythm deep inside of you and you must get reacquainted."

No larger truths or big messages, just an admonition that pop music can be a comfort in an age where nothing else seems to go right. Finishing off with a flapping reel, it's all a movie of the mind, with the remarkable Cee-Lo playing as many roles as Peter Sellers in Dr. Strangelove, and Danger Mouse providing the musical mise en scene a la Kubrick - at once threatening, seducing, haranguing, kibbitzing and cajoling, but never less than entertaining as they summon up the Id and give it a welcome workout.

The Raconteurs, Broken Boy Soldiers (V2)

Be careful what you wish for. All those who wanted to hear what Jack White would sound like sans the stringent aesthetic he applies to his work with the White Stripes now have their answer, and while this is truly a collaborative effort, it lacks the visceral thrills of our man at his best... or worst, as the case may be. The album starts off promisingly enough with "Steady as She Goes," a Motown-by-way-of-Elvis-Costello bass beat, followed by the line, "Find yourself a girl and settle down/Lead a simple life in a quiet town."

And if that seems to echo Jack's own current marriage to supermodel Karen Elson and subsequent move from Detroit to Nashville, it was originally written by partner Brendan Benson, who provides the McCartney to White's Lennon on several songs, including "Hands," the tender ballad "Together" and the Move-meets-"I Am the Walrus" psychedelia of "Intimate Secretary," with their voices coming out of either speaker.

White is truly just a member of this band, like Eric Clapton in Derek & the Dominos, with the Zeppish title track the only nod towards his patented vocal wail and screaming guitar solos. Recorded and mixed in just three weeks, it has a shambling, laid-back feel and a comfort level brought out in Benson's seemingly shiny, happy ode to the '60s, "Yellow Sun," though it ends with White intoning, "It's not sunny anymore." Let's just hope Jack's not mellowing too much, with a wife and now a baby on the way. His neuroses are precisely what make him so fascinating in the first place.