The nitrogen and oxygen of Air-Jean Benoit Dunckel and Nicolas Godin-are old- fashioned hommes. The cinelectro mavericks like dusty analog sounds. They like baroque '60s cowboy rocker Lee Hazlewood. And they love playing Cold War-era secret agents when asked about their new record, which follows the brilliant three-headed attack of Premiers Symptomes, Moon Safari, and last year's score to The Virgin Suicides. "It's very mysterious-you will not get anything from me," swears Godin.

Over the course of the band's brief career, Air's plush, moody compositions have made them heroes halfway between the art house and the nightclub, rubbing against sexy ambience, shag-rug nostalgia, and genius disco. In short, they make electronic music that evokes feelings, not fractals-an oft-promised, rarely delivered talent.

As for the next chapter, to be called 10,000 Hz. Legend (in reference to the alleged bowel-loosening effects of said frequency), the truth will, ahem, out. We know, for example, that there will be "no reference at all to '70s music. We are ashamed of that." There will reportedly be hipster-celeb cameos, including Buffalo Daughter chorusing in both English and Japanese and Beck doing something or other. "Maybe he will be on the record," dodges Godin. "I can't tell anything. The songs are more important. They are 100 percent Air songs." Their alleged collaborator is more chatty. "They came out here [to Hollywood] to work with me and some other people," fesses Beck. "They had a boys' choir. It's a fuckin' incredible record."

Whatever the case, Dunckel and Godin seem to have learned a thing or two about pranks from Mr. Hansen. While they claim to have listened to nothing over the past year but Mr. Oizo (the techno-meister who soundtracked the Levi's Flat Eric commercials), they insist that Mötley Crüe might be the most important influence" and that they are incorporating every sound you could imagine. Except accordion. "The accordion can be very ungraceful, but I like it," says Dunckel. "There's a Kusturica movie with a girl smoking a cigarette on the porch and playing an accordion in a very strange way. It is the forbidden instrument." Droll humor aside, Air are determined to push their art further than it's gone before-to make a soundtrack so vivid it will turn your daily life into a French film. "We wanted to make a record not for the trendies, but something rich, emotional, with a sense of time different from real life," says Godin. "It's very hard work to get something very simple."