It's difficult not to find Super Furry Animals' brand of pop infectious, particularly the collection of numbers compiled for Guerilla, the band's third full-length and arguably most cohesive -- albeit pleasingly and consistently unpredictable -- to date. Old-school techno remains in remnants, such as in "Wherever I Lay My Phone (That's My Home)." When it rears its head otherwise, it rests easily beside and within the majority of the fully fledged pop songs. The High Llamas contribute to the dreamy "Turning Tide"; there's the tropicalia of "Northern Lites," and, as ever, there are shades of punk and distortion in "Night Vision." Amazingly, the super bouncy rocker "The Teacher" does not credit a sample to the Who's "Baba O'Riley."

Super Furry Animals are eclectic, to say the least. Fusing together pop melodies, psychedelia, and art rock with an impish, punky fury, the band cover more ground on their debut album, Fuzzy Logic, than most indie bands do in their entire career. However, the album works better as a series of moments than as a collection, mainly due to their overreaching ambition. Each song floats by on irresistible, catchy vocal harmonies, while the music alternates between glitzy overdriven guitars and sighing, sweeping keyboard, guitar, and string backdrops. Over these lush sonic beds, lead vocalist Gruff sings lyrics that are either mystical, nonsensical, or bizarrely funny -- none of the songs make much literal sense, but that doesn't quite matter when the music is as free-spirited as this. The songs may start conventionally, but they'll be undercut by wild synthesizers and careening guitar solos, or off-kilter vocal melodies. Taken as individual moments -- as the singles "God! Show Me Magic" (relatively straight-ahead punk-pop), "Hometown Unicorn" (gorgeous psychedelia), and "Something 4 the Weekend" (which finds the middle ground between the first two singles) prove -- the music of Super Furry Animals is quite intoxicating, but when assembled together, they don't sustain momentum. However, the individual pleasures of each song become more apparent with each listen and Fuzzy Logic suggests that the group could blossom into something quite distinctive and utterly unique within a few albums. [The expanded 2005 reissue of Fuzzy Logic contains a bonus disc with five B-sides: "Organ Yn Dy Geg," "Crys Ti," "Lazy Life (Of No Fixed Identity)," "Death by Melody," and "Waiting to Happen." These are not all of the Fuzzy Logic-era B-sides -- such highlights as "Guacamole" and "Don't Be a Fool, Billy" only appear on the B-sides compilation Outspaced. So, the bonus disc here and those on the other 2005 Super Furry reissues act as clearing-houses for B-sides that did not appear on Outspaced and do not contain all of the album's B-sides or any rarities

Super Furry Animals' leap to a major label in the U.K. with Rings Around the World isn't that drastic of a change -- Fuzzy Logic was also released on Epic in the U.S., Creation was subsidized by Sony, and they never were exactly wanting of money on their previous records -- but the band nevertheless seizes the opportunity to consolidate their strengths, providing an introduction for listeners that may not have been paying attention before. As such, it's hard not to consider it as a bit of a missed opportunity, since this is the first SFA album not to progress from its predecessor, or offer the shock of the new, and that's hard not to miss -- but, if this is the first SFA record you hear, it'll likely intrigue, even dazzle, with its kaleidoscopic blend of pop, prog, punk, psych, and electronica. Still, this is nearly Super Furry Cliff Notes, offering a glossy, big-screen variation on all of their themes -- decadently lush pop-psych, chugging rock & roll, bitter leftism, sublimely warped imagery, experimentalism wrapped in luxurious productions. Alluring, to be sure, and satisfying, too, and there certainly are wonderful details scattered throughout the album, the least of which are cameos by John Cale and Paul McCartney. Plus, there is exceptional songwriting here, such as the cinematic "Juxtaposed With U," "Sidewalk Serfer Girl," and "Receptacle for the Respectable," which encapsulates nearly every side of the band within five minutes. Still, it's hard not to want a little more from the band that was the best pop band of the late '90s. It's hard not to at least want surprises (since there are none) or, if it's going to be a consolidation, to have it be a statement of purpose, since it lacks either an overarching theme or a music that gels. So, it's not what it could have been, but what it is is still pretty damn great, satisfying with its melodies, textures, and ideas. Compared to what Super Furry Animals have done before,

Using the psychedelicized prog-punk of Fuzzy Logic as a foundation, Super Furry Animals move even further into left field on their second album, Radiator. As before, the group displays a gift for catchy, deceptively complex melodic hooks, but now its songwriting and arrangements are mind-bogglingly intricate and eclectic. Songs boast intertwining melodies and countermelodies, with guitars and keyboards swirling around the vocals. Similarly, the production is dense and heavy with detail, borrowing heavily from prog rock and psychedelic pop, but pieced together with the invention of techno and played with the energy of punk. It's a heady, impressive kaleidoscope of sounds, but what gives Radiator its weight is the way the sonics complement the songwriting. SFA's songs are melodic, accessible, and utterly original -- melodically, they may borrow from '60s pop, but they rearrange the clichés in fresh ways. Also, Gruff Rhys has a fondness for revolutionary politics and the bizarre that helps give Radiator its intoxicating, otherworldly atmosphere, making it one of the few late-'90s albums that sounds inventive, vibrant, and utterly contemporary.