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Lest there be any doubt about it, Lady Gaga wants us to know that her song "Poker Face" is about fantasizing about women when she's hooking up with men. (It's a double entendre, capiche?) Sure, you could write that off as merely an attempt to stir up a little controversy -- although, if it's a ploy, it pales in comparison with her teasing suggestion that she may or may not have hermaphroditic features. But Gaga has backed up her sexuality in interviews, insisting that "people are born the way they are," and she's vocal in her support for gay and lesbian communities. Whatever you may think of her music, it's a refreshingly different approach from Katy Perry, who flirts with Sapphos on "I Kissed a Girl" -- mostly for the benefit of her ego and her boyfriend -- and then gets regressive on "Ur So Gay," her ode to an insufficiently butch boyfriend. ("I hope you hang yourself with your H&M scarf" -- classy!)

But pop music has always been a proving ground for the public's evolving attitudes toward sexuality, from Little Richard to Liberace, Prince to Peaches, out-and-proud disco to rap's confused "No homo." Check these key moments in gay-themed pop from the past few decades, and add your own favorite picks in the comments below.

There are three really cool things about my job. One of them is getting to turn people on to the music I'm most jazzed about: it's a license to pontificate, really -- a pulpit for strictly musical evangelism. But, recognizing that my own tastes can be, shall we say, peculiar, I also try to listen with open ears and the humble reminder that what doesn't float my boat (a rather cramped dinghy, it sometimes appears) may carry another listener's craft all the way to shore. They talk about the critic's role as a "filter," but I'm really more like a theater usher, lighting your way to the appropriate aisle.

The likely pick for my favorite album of 2009 is looking to be the self-titled debut from the xx, a co-ed London quartet of 20-year-olds whose self-produced album is a masterpiece of sensuality and restraint. Even I'm surprised at my enthusiasm for the record: it doesn't necessarily reach out and grab you on first listen, favoring atmospheres over hooks and suggestion over immediacy. Still, I have a hard time listening to it only once in a given sitting (one of the pleasures of a 39-minute album).

One of the things I like about the record is how it distills so many influences into such a simple, unassuming form: there's a vintage rock 'n' roll patina borrowed from Sun Studios-era Elvis and, less authentically vintage, Chris Isaak's "Wicked Games" (which serves as the barely disguised foundation for the xx's "Infinity"). The welling bass is reminiscent of dubstep and UK garage, and the sullen ambiance recalls post-punk and early goth; the song structures suggest the molasses Americana of Galaxie 500 and their protégés, like Low, Yo La Tengo and Mazzy Star.

The more you listen, the more references you can spot, floating like drops of oil on the surface of the xx's inky, glistening infusion. Since I can't just keep listening to their album on a constant loop (can I?), I put together a playlist that pulls together a number of possible xx influences—as well as a few contemporaries who achieve a similarly dark, viscous bliss in their music—including all the above plus Slowdive, Hugo Largo, David Bowie, Massive Attack, David Sylvian, Cocteau Twins, Seefeel, Brian Eno and many, many more. Listen to a sampling below, and check out the whole playlist here at Rhapsody's Playlist Central.

The fall release schedule has kicked in, in earnest, and the electronic-music world is humming like an overheated Theremin. From Basement Jaxx' cyborg pop to the nether reaches of the underground, here's a selection of recent records that don't require a PhD in electronic subgenres to appreciate.

The era of the celebrity DJ is on the wane. These days, the real big-tent tastemakers are music supervisors: the behind-the-scenes types with the knack for administering just the right dose of Snow Patrol at the tear-jerking climax of a Grey's Anatomy episode. And no one does that better than Alex Patsavas, whose keen ears and bursting Rolodex have put their sonic stamp on Grey's Anatomy, The O.C., Gossip Girl, and a little yarn about vampires called Twilight, whose soundtrack went on to sell 2.2 million copies.

The H1N1 Influenza virus -- popularly known, to the chagrin of the Other White Meat industry, as "swine flu" -- keeps spreading. And with some estimates claiming that it could affect as many as two to three billion people, it's only natural that celebrities will be stricken, along with the rest of us schlubs. (I'm not a doctor, but I play one on this blog.) From the cases reported so far, it looks like swine flu is not immune to irony. CNN's chief medical correspondent Dr. Sanjay Gupta got it. Epidemiologist and Huffington Post medical blogger Larry Brilliant, M.D. got it -- just days after agreeing to write an article on the disease, at that. (In addition to all its other evil powers, swine flu also apparently rifles through your email. Maybe they should call it crazy ex-girlfriend flu?) And now, it turns out, Marilyn Manson has gotten it too.

You have to give DFA credit for not resting on their laurels. The label's a figurehead of this decade's indie-dance scene, with an almost unnervingly astute sense for the nuances of 21st-century cool. And yet, aside from certain hallmarks of the DFA style -- ropy bass lines, disaffected vocals, judicious use of cowbell -- they have yet to settle into a pattern. (Black Meteoric Star's psychedelic, home-soldered acid house isn't exactly par for the indie course.)

Their habit of reaching outside their own scene when commissioning remixes is equally commendable. In addition to marquis names like Soulwax and Franz Ferdinand, DFA also tap artists -- like Carl Craig, Baby Ford and Luomo -- who resonate with house and techno die-hards, but have little foothold in American indie circles. It's not just a question of credibility; the stream of new input keeps DFA's mutable sound continually refreshed.

A stellar new collection of remixes of LCD Soundsystem's 45:33, James Murphy's Nike-sponsored album from 2006, is a case in point. Theo Parrish, Prins Thomas, Runaway, Trus'Me, Prince Language, Padded Cell, Pilooski and Riley Reinhold all take the ball and run as far as they can, touching down everywhere from Detroit downbeat to Norwegian disco. Read on for a rundown of the parties involved, with recommendations for further listening from each.

 

El Guincho (photo: Oliver Faig)

This week's column has no explicit theme, but there might be an implicit one: all five of these albums explore what happens when you combine traditional acoustic and electric instruments with electronic processing and production. Three of them make heavy use of vocals. Four are new, another is a decade old, and one of them sounds way older -- in a good way.

El Guincho, "Antillas" remixes: EP1 and EP2

El Guincho's music is so full of energy and ideas, it's often hard to believe that it's the work of a single artist: listening to his 2008 debut, Alegranza, feels like standing on a hilltop equidistant from three or four different stages at a world music fest, with soca, Afropop, tropicalia and psychedelic rock swirling in the air and shifting with the winds. Now the Spanish musician has reissued "Antillas," one of the album's standout tracks, to a diverse crew of remixers who take his ideas even farther afield. Most of them stay true to the sunny-day spirit of the original, homing in on Highlife-inspired guitars and delirious, Animal Collective-styled chants. Spank Rock's XXXchange comes up with a dazzling slab of Technicolor exuberance in the spirit of DFA or Carl Craig. Norway's Prins Thomas, a master of hypnotic disco, seems to have come across a few of the helium-fueled balloons that once floated above the floor of David Mancuso's Loft; full of bluegrass guitar and manic hand claps, it's as unstoppable as a five-year-old's birthday party. Cee, of Germany's dub outfit Al-Haca, takes the opposite approach, layering atonal voices over quavering bass and stripped-down percussion halfway between dubstep and the bleakest techno: it's "Antillas" all right, but as heard from the other end of a black hole.

 

Owl City (photo: Pamela Littky)

While Gawker reports that Michael Cera is losing his cool, there arrives a new torchbearer for gangly teenaged sincerity. Minnesota's Adam Young launched his electronic-pop project, Owl City, while passing the time in his parents' basement; his MySpace page lists "God," "optimism," "foreign accents" and "G-rated movies" as influences. Taking cues from the Postal Service's fusion of skittery digital rhythms and unabashedly emo melodies, Owl City's new album, Ocean Eyes, channels the bright-eyed rush of the teenage sublime into the sweetest -- well, bittersweetest -- sound possible. With the album casting its rosy glow over the electronic and rock charts, the daydreaming insomniac found the time to share with us an exclusive playlist: Owl City's Pajama Party Songs, complete with his own track-by-track commentary. With a surprisingly ambitious selection running from Hella through Boards of Canada and the experimental computer musician Alva Noto -- and, uh, Shaquille O'Neal -- even die-hard cynics will find it hard not to open up to Mr. Young-at-Heart.

Hella, "Welcome to the Jungle Baby, Your Gonna Live!"
"This song makes me wanna throw a huge pizza party with the Chicago Bulls."
Alva Noto, "jr: for katsushika hokusai"
"I wake up every morning and brush my teeth to this song. My pearly whites are incredibly clean."
Boards of Canada, "Dayvan Cowboy"
"Of dusk and dust and dreams."
Shaquille O'Neal, "My Dear"
"Best song in the history of recorded music. Ever."
Pelican, "Last Day of Winter"
"Indoor swimming music."
The Field, "I Have the Moon, You Have the Internet"
"Brilliant minimalist house."
Taylor Swift, "Love Story"
"Sigh."
Botch, "To Our Friends in the Great White North"
"Go-cart music."
Amon Tobin, "Get Your Snack On"
"This song makes me wanna hang out with my mailman."
Hammock, "When the Sky Pours Down Like a Fountain"
"Snuggle music."
 

Sally Shapiro

Summer's all but officially over, and boy does it feel like it. These three albums may be grounded in libidinal sounds like disco and punk, but there's nevertheless something coolly distant, even alienating about them. (That's part of their charm.) They might make for an entirely unscientific sampling of the current indie dance landscape, but from their heightened affect to their stylistic feints, I think all three speak to a creeping sense of anxiety in the pop underground, both explicit and unconscious.

Sally Shapiro, My Guilty Pleasure

If the term "ice princess" wasn't invented for Sally Shapiro, it's entirely possible she was invented for it. (And she is, let's not forget, an invention: Sally Shapiro is only the nom de microfon of a Swedish shrinking violet whose real name, she demurs, is "something else.") Even singing songs like "Love in July," she sounds about as summery as a steel-blue shock of glacier: her breathy, oddly translucent voice rises up from the mix like the vapors from a frostbitten kiss. Of course, much of the credit for My Guilty Pleasure's deep-freeze aesthetic goes to producer Johan Agebjörn, whose Italo-disco-inspired arpeggios feel as sharply limned as the edges of a snowflake. All the gleaming surfaces can get a bit dizzying after a while -- Royksopp's Junior, a similar attempt at cryogenic disco, sounds positively tropical in comparison -- but there's a thawing respite in the trance-tossed "Dying in Africa," which summons visions of the Field's disappearing horizons.

YACHT, See Mystery Lights

YACHT's full-length DFA debut sounds almost like the work of a different band than the one responsible for I Believe in You. Your Magic Is Real. On the Portland, Ore., band's new album Psychic City, the skittery electronic touches of earlier albums cede the center ground to more muscular guitar-drums-and-bass arrangements. Instead of sketching around the outlines of pop, Jona Bechtolt and Claire L. Evans now home in on the shape of their songs in bold strokes. YACHT aren't shy about their magpie tendencies: "Pyschic City" and "It's Boring" take cues from the Pixies and Pylon, while more futuristic joints like "I'm in Love with a Ripper" open their arms wide to encompass '80s synth-pop and '00s R&B, via ZTT-inspired sampling and delirious flights of Auto-Tune. (There's even a trace of the Durutti Column in the limpid guitars of the opening "Ring the Bell.") It's far more engaging than fellow Portlanders Glass Candy, whose No Wave disco wants for YACHT's irreverent, inquisitive spirit. From the low-slung bass to Evans' slouchy delivery, the album's a no-brainer fit for DFA, currently running this corner of the indie dance scene. But despite the obligatory grounding in the punkier side of disco, it still sounds unlike anything else on the label.

Health, Get Color

Health's machinic rhythms and queasy oscillators, laced with digital tics and freaky effects, draw an imaginary line from Sonic Youth's swollen amplifiers to the nether space of the motherboard. Like Liars, Animal Collective and Battles, the L.A. band pulls at rock's ragged edges in both style and sonics. The new album, Get Color, is both heavier and trickier than their debut: songs like "Death+" sound like a cross between Helmet and Aphex Twin -- part death march, part angels' chorus. The band's tendency to lock into a trance-inducing churn sometimes leaves you wishing for more in the way of songwriting; maybe that last, as-yet-untaken leap is what gives the music such a palpable sense of struggle -- witness the fiery permutations of "We Are Water," where the band wrestles with the ghosts of prog rock, hardcore and techno; the song's imbued with a sense of almost incendiary frustration as it twists and turns.

When none other than Diddy starts spitting over vintage-styled, Chicago-inspired jack tracks, you know that house music's capital is on the rise. But don't take Diddy's word for it, as entertaining as it is to hear him grumbling, "You can't even get into your thing on a four-minute version" on DJ Hell's upcoming track "The DJ." (Radio Slave clearly knows what Diddy's talking about: his remix clocks in at an incredible 28 ½ minutes long.)

House music's always been in for the long haul, and this summer it more than pulls its weight as the familiar, disco-driven sound of classic deep house -- pioneered by producers like Phuture, Larry Heard, Jesse Saunders, Frankie Knuckles, Pal Joey, Moodymann, Theo Parrish -- seeps back into dance music, from the basement dives to the megaclubs. We put together a playlist of 50 of 2009's hottest house anthems to keep you moving into the dog days of summer.

Check a selection below, or sign up for your free Rhapsody trial membership and listen to the full playlist as well high-quality audio all your favorite house and electronic as much as you want and anytime you want.

Ah, 1999, we hardly knew ye: we were so caught up in preparing for the looming millennial ball drop that we dropped the ball on savoring the waning days of a thousand-year stretch that began with the founding of Norway and ended, as usual, with Dick Clark holding court in Times Square, as I'm pretty sure he'd done every year since around the time of the Norman Conquest. (The big difference at 1999's New Year's Eve parties was that people seemed to be listening to a lot more Prince, for whatever reason.)

Blame the Y2K bug for our inattention. But at least we danced. Oh, how we danced. Basement Jaxx, Underworld, the Chemical Brothers, Moby and other relics of the rave era were enjoying proper pop credibility. Dr. Dre was "Still D.R.E.," while Britney was, well, still Britney, but without the "b*tch." Le Tigre proved that riot grrrls were down with the disco. And the underground was teeming with activity, from U.K. garage to minimal techno. Relive it all with our five-hour playlist of the best dance tracks that 1999 had to offer. Don't you deserve a break from the "oughts"? Thought so. Check a sampling below, and get the whole thing here at Playlist Central.

August is a slow month for record releases, so I thought I'd highlight some upcoming news. Don't worry, we've got plenty of new music for you as well -- scroll down for a playlist featuring the Hyperdub debut of Global Communication's Mark Pritchard and Sa-Ra's Om'mas Keith; breakbeat maven Si Begg and bleep veterans Unique 3; an Autechre new remix of the Black Dog; offbeat house from Who Made Who and DJ Koze; a new Boys Noize-approved banger from D.I.M.; club-ready remixes of classic Fatboy Slim; a brief introduction to the Troubled Mind of the Gaslamp Killer, the newest signing to Flying Lotus' Brainfeeder imprint; and a new track from downtempo stalwarts Zero 7.

Mocky's new album, Saskamodie, makes great use of the Paris studio in which it was recorded, channeling the spirit of artists who have previously recorded there -- Nina Simone, Serge Gainsbourg -- into a wonderfully warm and intimate take on '60s lounge pop. The presence of friends and co-conspirators like Jamie Lidell and Feist only enhances the Canadian musician's ample, obvious talents as a songwriter, arranger and multi-instrumentalist.

Mocky's recent performance in his current hometown, Berlin, didn't feature any of those names, and the setting couldn't have been more different from the celebrated Paris studio. The show took place at Badeschiff, an artificial beach along the banks of the Spree river, where the band performed beneath a plastic tarp while the crowd sat in folding hammock chairs or sprawled on damp sand. Berlin's clockwork summer showers had begun shortly after soundcheck and let up, more or less, right about the time the band came on stage. (Serendipity, or something more?)

San Francisco's Om label is celebrating 15 years with the aptly titled Om 15, a double-disc compilation featuring label long-timers (J-Boogie, Lance De Sardi, Mike Monday [pictured], Pezzner) as well as illustrious guests from across the dance scene: Spirit Catcher, Radio Slave, Atjazz, Christian Prommer, even Bugz in the Attic's Daz-I-Kue, a broken-beat heavyweight who's been relatively quiet in recent years. Reflecting Om's uptempo and downtempo poles, the comp divides roughly into two parts. You'll find various shades of deep house, tech-house, disco-house and even hip-house (thanks Daz!) on Disc 1. Disc 2 is mellower, but it's surprisingly varied and surprisingly invigorating, with rootsy dub (Idan K & the Movements of Rhythm), starry-eyed deep house (Charles Webster and Samantha James) and shades of '90s ambient. Listen to the entire compilation embedded in the playlist below.

To commemorate the occasion, the label put together an exclusive playlist for Rhapsody. Om Records: 15 Years in 15 Tracks blazes through the label's history with tracks from Naked Music NYC, People Under the Stairs, King Kooba and more. For an even fuller overview, check out our own massive playlist featuring over 100 tracks from the Om archives, and read about five classic Om albums after the jump.