1

2

3

John Rouse

4

5

EL TURISTA

Josh Rouse

Yep Roc, $15.99

Josh Rouse sings South American songs on "El Turista," yet his Great Plains roots remain evident. "I want to see some green; get me out of this place," he pleads, sounding like someone trapped in winter in his native Nebraska.

Rouse has seen a lot of the world since childhood, and he now lives on Spain's Mediterranean coast with his wife and their child. He has acquired a broad musical palette and drew on the folk traditions of Spain, Brazil, Venezuela and Cuba to create the dreamy "El Turista."

The music is like a cosmopolitan dinner party, sophisticated and yet pulsing with energy. That's thanks to exotic rhythms that keep the toe tapping. The most obvious antecedent is Paul Simon's world music, in part because Rouse's singing - in both Spanish and English - bears a strong resemblance to Rhymin' Simon.

Percussion is paramount. Rouse builds the songs with rhythms and counter-rhythms, and before long they're swaying like a palm in the breeze far, far from Nebraska.

SAN PATRICIO

The Chieftains featuring Ry Cooder

Hear Music, $18.98

"Riverdance" visits the Rio Grande on "San Patricio," an unlikely but likable merger of music from Ireland and Mexico.

The album tells the story of Irish immigrants who deserted the U.S. Army in 1846 to fight on the side of the Mexicans against the invading Yankees. Known as the San Patricio battalion, the immigrants were scorned in the United States, but they're remembered as heroes in Mexico.

The Chieftains bring history alive with their characteristic exuberance and grace, and a parade of guest artists help celebrate a confluence of musical genres. Ry Cooder, who co-produced with the Chieftains' Paddy Moloney, contributes an original ballad, and there are fine performances by singers Linda Ronstadt, Lila Downs and 92-year-old Chavela Vargas, among others.

Included are a lullaby and march, airs and reels from Ireland, as well as Mexican sones, boleros and canciones rancheras. Uilleann pipes give way to trumpets, and the bajo sexto alternates with the tin whistle.

The musical merger might seem like trying to fit a square peg through a round guitarron hole. But by the 19th and final cut, a joyful 5½-minute medley, labels are forgotten and the styles of the two countries have become one.

PLASTIC BEACH

Gorillaz

Virgin, $18.98

After five silent years, the 2-D virtual ensemble giants, Gorillaz, are back.

Following 2005's "Demon Days," they return - and get nautical - with an ambitious, island-themed third effort, "Plastic Beach." It's a smooth ride through a variety of sonic canals, from pop to soul to electronica. Signature Gorillaz can be found on mellow tracks like "Rhinestone Eyes," which boasts electronic gurgles, and the mellifluous, low vocals of semi-anonymous frontman, Damon Albarn, formerly of Blur.

However, there is some unexpected spice added to this island cocktail by a legion of guest artists, such as Snoop Dogg, De La Soul and Bobby Womack. Mos Def dishes up a fresh flow for the electro-centric anthem "Stylo," combining elements of techno and soul. Even Lou Reed finds his tech-voice, flanked by drum machines and pro-tooled squeals, on the uptempo, piano chord-tinged "Some Kind of Nature." It's pop-fusion of the highest order, but nothing especially new.

While Gorillaz aren't exactly occupying exotic territory on "Plastic Beach," at least the ride is enjoyable.

GET OFF ON THE PAIN

Gary Allan

MCS Nashville, $10.98

Many modern Nashville artists cop the macho swagger of the outlaw movement of country music's past, but few remember how artists like Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson balanced self-aggrandizement with sensitive self-examination.

Gary Allan, to his credit, is tough enough to show a tender side. On his eighth studio album, "Get Off on the Pain," Allan not only rocks with bluster; he also opens his tortured soul and searches for redemption.

A tattooed surfer from California, Allan shows brains as well as brawn on the title cut and on the rampaging "That Ain't Gonna Fly," in which he admits he should know by now that his medicine of choice - whiskey and women - doesn't cure heartaches. But that doesn't keep him from indulging.

However, it's on the ballads where Allan truly flies. "Along the Way" and "She Gets Me" both find a rowdy rambler acknowledging how much his lover sacrifices to keep him. On the musically stripped-down "No Regrets," Allan attunes his gruff-but-powerful voice to convey a hard-earned strength that's come in the five years since his wife Angela's suicide, while admitting, "I still miss her every day." That's the kind of searing honesty too often missing from country radio today.