None of them are Brazilian, only one is a girl, and they jump around genres like a schizophrenic DJ, but all the obtuseness is just window dressing when you consider the groove and smart, playful attitude that hold the Brazilian Girls' debut together. Bouncing between house music, samba-flavored pop, and freaky dancing stoner anthems all seems rather effortless in the able hands of the the Brazilian Girls, three guys and one gal who are totally Nublu. If you don't know Nublu, it's a club in New York City that seems to dig up one musician/DJ after another who could be equally at home in the pages of Vogue or the Wire. The Brazilian Girls walk with much more of a smirk than their Nublu brothers, Wax Poetic, but they share a common bond: skillful execution of delicious and sultry vibes. If it's not the feet moving, it's the head bobbing, with everything from Air-like dreaminess ("Lazy Lover") to '80s-styled references (the good ol' Linn drum machine used for "Long") calling out for body response. The "drink some tea/smoke some herb" highlight "Don't Stop" should make everyone from Little Louie Vega to Gilles Peterson happy, while Marlene Dietrich pines from above that she didn't get a crack at the wistful "Ships in the Night." Even when she's not borrowing from Pablo Neruda, Sabina Sciubba is a stunning lyricist, poetically vivid one moment and flippantly dropping pop-culture references the next. Her voice is beautiful while her delivery is sometimes triumphant, sometimes homey/lazy, and always suggestive. The only bummer for those who devour anything from the house of Nublu is that the band's debut EP is repeated here, minus the remixes, but its three tracks work better here, surrounded by deeper grooves and the more wandering numbers. Superb, fun, sexy, and highly recommended. ~ David Jeffries

In their irresistibly stylish self-titled debut, New York electro-pop quartet Brazilian Girls marries sexy, breathy French and English vocals with urban beats and a hip, sophisticated downtown sensibility. Neither Brazilian nor, with the exception of their sensual vocalist Sabina Sciubba, female, the band has a beguiling way with sinuous rhythms, dubby bass, and lounge-influenced arrangements. Sciubba's slyly insinuating lyrics nestle like a kitten into psychedelic swirls of keyboards and synth bleeps, particularly on "Don't Stop," which is packed with influences ranging from 1970s disco to Indian film music.

Conjuring memories of '90s disco dilettantes Deee-Lite in the alluring "Sirenes de la Fete," the Girls' unapologetically kitsch approach is a feast of smart, trippy, exotic electronica. Sciubba is obviously no stranger to the work of '60s French chanteuse Francois Hardy, continually evoking the Gallic songstress in her faux-naive vocal style. Within the reggae rhythms of "Pussy," the group's hymn to sex and drugs, the Girls mine a rich vein of Eurotrashy, elastic beats, rounding out a wonderfully fun, decadent album.