Further blurring the boundaries between electronic music and rock, Ratatat's self-titled debut album mixes Evan Mast's fractured but propulsive beats and woozy analog synths with Mike Stroud's loud, yet somehow subtle, guitars. Come to think of it, "loud yet subtle" neatly sums up the instrumental duo's approach -- while their sound can pack a formidable punch, it's also atmospheric. Often, the duo is both aggressive and atmospheric within one song, as on the album's opening track, Seventeen Years: It begins as a dancefloor stormer, with in-the-red guitars and keyboards and a beat that sounds like it's gasping for air, until an analog synth-driven breakdown turns it into something more moody and bedroom-bound. More laid-back than dance-punk but livelier than post-rock, Ratatat's shuffling rhythms and pensive keyboards clearly owe a debt to Mast's work as E*vax, but other influences pop up too. Comparisons have been made to Daft Punk, and for the most part, they're justified; with its busy guitars, much of Ratatat plays like an indie spin on Aerodynamic from Daft Punk's Discovery, albeit with a slightly less arch feel. The bittersweet naïveté that floats through the album also recalls a more roughed-up version of Plone's nursery rhyme electronica, particularly on Cherry, the sleepy epic that closes Ratatat and pays tribute to the band's former name. A slight hip-hop vibe also pops up from time to time, most clearly on Crips' insistent bass and rattling beat, but also in the spoken word interludes that dot the album.

1		Seventeen Years
2		El Pico
3		Crips
4		Desert Eagle
5		Everest
6		Bustelo
7		Breaking Away
8		Lapland
9		Germany to Germany
10		Spanish Armada
11		Cherry