Top 10 electronic music albums of 2022: Björk – Fossora

Hurrah! It's time for my Top 10 album countdown, blog post by blog post until we get to the Bestest Fave Top Mega Best Album of 2022. (I may not actually call it that.) 

See the full countdown here.

Björk: Fossora (One Little Independent)

Electronic Sound: “It’s happened. Bjork has finally become a mushroom... the organic matter she’s absorbing is deeply personal. The loss of her mother, but hope for the future. Fagurt Er í Fjörðum features a poem by Latra-Björg, an 18th-century fisherwoman who believed she could cast spells with words. There are millions of species of fungi. Some will poison you, some are indeed magic. Bjork does it all here.”

The astonishing thing about Bjork is that no-one could invent her. You could imagine someone coming up with a Coldplay or a Drake. But where do you start with Bjork? She’s fully choral and fully techno and fully alien and fully human. Fossora manages to be completely industrial and ethereal at exactly the same time. She is everything everywhere all at once. With extra clarinets. I’m so glad she invented herself.

Curious track: Allow because Bjork keeps saying Allow and I like it when Bjork says Allow.

Album feels: It feels like that bit in the Matrix when Keanu's inside that soggy space pod getting sucked off.

Cover art: A perfectly normal picture of the Queen of Fungi with a plasma globe hairdo.

From another website: Fossora is not her mushroom record, her grief/hope opus, or even her Iceland album as she put it. It’s the sound of Björk building her home as the mother of it all. (Pitchfork)

This is part of a series of the Best Electronic Music Albums of 2022. Read it all here.

One small BlueDot with Bjork, Anna Meredith, Jane Weaver and tonnes more

I went to BlueDot Festival and had a brilliant time, thanks for asking. The camping was a little tough because I am now as old as a mountain, but with the help of a hastily-bought camping chair and a steady supply of Tango, I got through it just fine. Festivals are back! Woo!

BlueDot is a science and music festival based at Jodrell Bank, which is a clever science centre with a telescope that looks like a satellite dish. You know the scaffolding that Tom Baker Doctor Who fell to his death from? It’s based on that telescope. It’s a small, chilled festival full of nice people. You should go.

I’m going to reel through everything I saw and did, so brace yourself. This is a quick and dirty blog post, so it’s all first draft. No photos – you can find them on Twitter by searching for fatroland and the blue dot emoji. Right. Let’s do some words. Let’s go!

Sunday’s main headliner was the Halle Orchestra featuring Bjork. So good, I cried twice. She was as otherworldly as ever – you can google the costume she was wearing. But she was also earthy and emotional, and she did old tracks like ‘Come To Me’ which made me a very happy boy indeed. The orchestra was phenomenal, and reminded me that there are certain melodic arrangements that sound very Bjork indeed. It’s not all about the voice, as it happens.

I ought to take this chance to tell you that I have also sung with the Halle Orchestra. I was a founding member of Manchester Boys Choir, and we sung in proper concerts and everything. We even did Songs of Praise. I’m not saying that makes me as good as Bjork and/or Jesus. I’m not saying that. That is for you to decide. Ahem.

Mandy, Indiana knocked the tent pegs out of the place with their claustrophobic drums and apocalyptic Frenchness. The lead singer took a bad tumble on stage and ended the gig laughing like a maniac. Breathtaking start to finish.

This seems like stating the obvious, but Yard Act were cheeky, hilarious and very Yorkshire. I loved the bit where he railed against middle-class kids and their confectionary, then tried to list as many middle-class kid sweets as he could. Frubes. He mentioned Frubes. Also worth including in this very-Yorkshire section is the Eccentronic Research Council, whose brilliant festival-closing set involved some amazing gruffness and Maxine Peake reading out people’s dreams. Adrian really does have a very impressive hat.

It was so great to see Kelly Lee Owens, who trod a perfect line between Canderel-sweet vocal harmonies and grubby warehouse techno devastation. She clashed with Groove Armada, but this was an easy choice. Kelly Lee flipping Owens.

Anna Meredith took to main stage and converted everyone to her tuba techno and her bold, brassy, brainy beats. And her digital Tom Cruise. So much fun. Last gig of the year as she turns her focus to album production.

I got to see Koreless, my album of the year for last year. Intricate, powerful, all the good things – but cut short because I had to pop off to Squarepusher. Mr Pusher was in a furious mood, barraging us with audio fractals for a solid hour before allowing even a slight notion of melody to show its face. ‘Detroit People Pusher’ was a fractured highlight. Cracking stuff.

Jane Weaver revived the spirit of melodic 1990s indie and put in a remarkable and mesmerising set. Head and shoulders above most of her peers. I’ve seen LoneLady several times since I did my interview with her for Electronic Sound magazine, and it was good to see her on a proper big stage. Front rail, boogied a lot, sorted.

Hannah Peel and her Paraorchestra was a fine appetiser on a quiet Thursday. Norrisette brought some quirky and masked Stockport realness to the festival. Dirty Freud reminded us of 1990s trip hop. Caro C did a delightfully engaging performance of her Electric Mountain album, complete with found sounds. All rather smashing.

What else? Henge once again beamed in from space to deliver their mix of Spinal Tap and Galaxy Quest fun. Always good value. Sad Night Dynamite were fun too but probably more aimed at kids. I saw some Sea Fever, the projected by Johnny Marr’s bass player Iwan Gronow. Sounds From The Other City did a colossal DJ takeover – another great festival you should check out. Tim Burgess knocked out some Charlatans numbers on main stage, which was endearing, like watching your poodle dance on its back legs. There was Mogwai too. But I didn't watch them. Soz.

Among the non-music things I saw were Matthew Cobb talking about brains and entertaining us with AI-generated Love Hearts slogans, comedian Bec Hill and maths funny man Matt Parker doing a live podcast and Brainiac Live doing science experiments probably – I missed almost all of it because I was chatting and facing the wrong way. I caught A Certain Ratio talking about the olden days with affection and humility. Anna Meredith ran an album listening session which was engaging and funny. The spoken word artist ROY did a hugely enjoyable and expletive-ridden reading and Q&A.

Oh and astronaut Tim Peake talked about being astronaut Tim Peake. This was amazing because he’s a chuffing astronaut and I am most definitely not a chuffing astronaut. Or perhaps I am an astronaut. Perhaps I am. That is for you to decide.

A few personal things. Shout out to my camping buddies Deb and Tom and Michelle, and to the many friends I hung out with. BlueDot is a bit like everyone in Manchester dumped into a field. Hat doff to Ben, to Adrian, to Helen, to Electronic Sound, to my Blackwell’s buddies, and to Dave and Hannah whose BlueDot experience was robbed by Covid.

Would I go again? Of course. I’m addicted to this festival. It perhaps needs more stalls and traders, and more places to buy a bacon butty, and less sponsorship from Dyson which was a bit odd. But the food was immense (masala dosa!), the stewarding was great, and I got to be in a room with a flipping astronaut. Well. Not quite in a room. Outside the tent. Sat against a fence. Just enjoying the BlueDot space vibes. Brill. 

LFO'S LFO

I was thinking today about how much of an incendiary bomb LFO by LFO was.

The single was Warp Records' first big hit, peaking at number 12 in the UK charts in August 1990, wedged between Timmy Mallett and Craig McLachlan from Neighbours.

"We'd just been messing around with drum machines since we were, like, thirteen, tapping away at them like they were arcade games," said LFO's Mark Bell.

And that's what it sounds like. Computer-y. Geometric. Made of pixels. It was kind of house music, which had been around for a while, but lacked any sass. No diva was going to start wailing over this kind of club sound. 

This was a track from a Leeds band, released on a Sheffield label. Is this relevant? I think it is. I'm tired of lazy generalisations about "the north" but there's no way this would have sounded as good if it was made in London. It needed a Yorkshire dourness: a sense of the industrial. After the burst of yellow smiley colour that was the rave explosion, LFO seemed to be built from actual scaffolding. Structural and metallic; absolutely clanging. 

Also they said "LFO" in the track. They were called LFO, they named their single LFO, the lyrics were "LFO". What a statement of intent. Tricky Disco's Tricky Disco, which was a hit at the same time, pulled the same stunt, a chirpy and childish "tricky disco!" spicing up the bleeps. That's like Orbital chanting "Orbital!" right in the middle of Chime, which they'd need to rename Orbital.

LFO spent one week at the giddy heights of number 12 in the charts: it would go on to sell 130,000 records, solidifying Warp's future and beginning a whole new chapter in electronic music history. Mark Bell would go on to produce Björk, helping move her from a spiky popster into a baroque techno experimentalist on Homogenic.

What replaced LFO at number 12 the following week? Together's Hardcore Uproar, the legacy of which should probably be saved for another blog post.

As the Pharisees attacked Jesus, and so it was that pop music fought back against LFO. In the second half of the 1990s, a band called the Lyte Funky Ones appeared. They shortened their name to LFO, thereby confusing everyone forever. I hated them. These New England popsters were NKOTB wannabes who were about as techno as a Barbie doll head on a spike. 

Actually that's quite techno. I may need to think that analogy. 

Within a month of (the proper) LFO's commercial success, Timmy Mallett would top the charts, followed by the Steve Miller Band's The Joker which I think is one of the worst songs ever written. Vanilla Ice would try the eponymous lyric thing by saying "Ice, Ice baby" but it would sound all wrong.

Good old LFO. Have a listen here.

Further Fats: My Warp top ten: it's not all Warp and there aren't ten of them (2009)

Further Fats: Fat Roland's wonderful Warp Records word search (2020)

Best electronic albums of 2020: ten

10 – Ital Tek – Outland (Planet Mu)

We start the top ten an act I called "ambimum" in my 2016 top ten and compared to Stockport in my 2018 top ten. With yet another top ten entry, Ital Tek has done it again – and may well have scored higher than previous years if there hadn't been such competition in 2020. Not that this is a competition. Ahem.

Outland starts quietly, like a boxing match with a baby tiger. "This is easy," you think, as the baby fur flies. Soon the snarling begins; the muscles flex, and before long you have a furious tiger and/or pulsing analogue synths sitting on your face.

This is his most accessible album despite some naaaasty bass moments. Such is the analogue perfection, it really does feel like you're being destroyed by something cute. The apocalypse has never sounded so graceful.

Outland has the grimy thump of Clark cushioned by the murky otherworld of Stranger Things; it has the crowd-hyping drops of Jon Hopkins or Hudson Mohawke almost completely flattened into a biophilic Bjorkian fuzz. So good.

No baby tigers were hurt in the writing of this blog post, apart from the one I fired out of a cannon, but that was just for fun.

 

Browse the rest of the Best Electronic Albums of 2020

Best electronic music albums of 1995: Grand Final – Tricky versus Bjork

I hope you've been following the battle to find the best electronic music album of 1995. It has, frankly, taken ages: this grand final has been a long time coming.

We started this contest with 16 albums by the greatest names in bleepy beats, including Aphex Twin, the Chemical Brothers, Leftfield and Autechre. Bout by bout, an album has been eliminated, often for incredibly spurious reasons. Why spurious? Because (a) the judging criteria has included egg songs, elephant birthday presents and the size of caravans, and (b) the only judge has been me, and I'm often sozzled on the contents of my cleaning cupboard. Who knew Toilet Duck tasted of bubble gum?

Disclaimer: Toilet Duck does not taste of bubble gum. Do not drink cleaning products. I am building a sophisticated comedy character through exaggerated fictional activities, so you should ignore that comment. As you should, for that matter, everything I ever write.

For the grand final, I'm going to use a random number generator to arbitrarily select some previously-used judging criteria. This is in the sincere hope that the eggs one will come up again: I miss that one. Fingers crossed.

Let's welcome our contestants for the grand final. They are:

Maxinquaye by Tricky

Post by Bjork

The New York Times declared Maxinquaye as the "first album-length masterpiece" of trip hop. Spin magazine praised the way Post broke the "flow of whiny rockers", while another publication said it set the scene for the incoming cyber age. Two massively important albums. Only one can win.

Let's boogie.

Criteria one: which album feels too big to fit into a caravan?

Nice to see the caravan criteria back, last seen in the quarter-finals. The sheer scope of Post would overwhelm a humble caravan door, thereby impeding entry. And if you told Bjork to get into a caravan, she'd slap you across the schnozzle. But the more I read about Tricky's chaotic recording sessions, the more cluttered Maxinquaye sounds. Fitting his album into a space that small would be like trying to squeeze all your furniture into next door's bird nest. Don't let Tricky anywhere near my caravan: at the very least, he's going to snap a hinge.

Winner: Maxinquaye

Criteria two: which album cover would make the best face tattoo for Fat Roland?

I feel quite sad about face tattoos. Post Malone's "always tired" tattoo makes him look, well, always tired. A face tattoo on my podgy boatrace would make me look like a confused balloon or a sofa infested by spiders. Despite my previous fondness for Tricky's red, I really should go for Bjork. I'd look great. I'd look like Bjork. The actual Bjork. "Mummy, why has that man got a Bjork CD drawn on his face?" "Ignore the strange man, Jemima, he's one of those bloggers." Yeah. It would be brilliant.

Winner: Post

Criteria three: which of the two would Jesus listen to?

Neither contestant fared well in this judging criteria back in round one, with me finding BT and Autechre more Christ-friendly than Tricky or Bjork. So which of these two heathen long-players deserves the attention of the saviour of the world? Maxinquaye feels more like John the Baptist, prophesying the future in Hell Is Round The Corner. With her evocations of nature and mystery, perhaps Post is more druidic than I'd given it credit for. It's easy to see which one Jesus would plump for. 

Winner: Maxinquaye

Criteria four: which album is best stored in a fridge?

In the semi-finals, I was unconvinced about putting Tricky's album in the fridge. There was too much contaminated filth in his dirty beats. And although there's something delicate about Bjork's music, like ice crystals, Post was Bjork in a boisterous mood: "I won't sympathise anymore," she warns. Should someone that feisty be stored near eggs? I'm beginning to think it's Tricky we should keep in the fridge, at least to stop his smoky beats from going off.

Winner: Maxinquaye

Criteria five: which album has more bangin' choons?

Cast your mind back to May 2007. The charts were full of Nelly Furtado and Shakira. On the 1st of that month, I published this blog post declaring that Bjork had released a "choon". It was poorly written and didn't really explain what the tune in question was, but it pointed towards Bjork's propensity for bold melodic motifs, clearly evident on Post. Have I ever written a blog post about Tricky releasing a "choon"? No, I haven't. Sorry, Tricky.

Winner: Post

Criteria six: which album has the sexiest track titles?

I unfairly compared Maxinquaye to 50 Shades Of Grey in the quarter-finals, while I referred to Bjork's track listing as "proper phwoar". And while Tricky's Overcome and Suffocated Love suggest a certain level of bedroom tomfoolery, I really can't deny the sexiness of Bjork's cheeky Enjoy and You've Been Flirting Again. "This is sex without touching," she says. She's talking about her track titles. I bet her record company was very confused.

Winner: Post

Criteria seven: an honest appraisal of both albums

I would usually cram this final judging criteria (criterium?) with a bunch of random gubbins from Wikipedia. But as a respectful sign-off to this blog series, I thought it would be nice to give some serious consideration to these grand finalists. The 1990s would have felt different if either work had been absent. Tricky consolidated the blunted electronics of the Portishead aesthetic, although you could argue that trip hop in general has not aged well. Bjork made herself a star with her album, which was show-tuned and filmic, although you could argue her most acclaimed work lay elsewhere. Only one of these albums, however, burned like a magnesium fire; a moment of production madness that summed up the hybrid nature of 1995's music scene like nothing else. And no, it's not easy to sing along about eggs to...

...Winner: Maxinquaye

The best electronic music album of 1995 is: Maxinquaye by Tricky. I reckon six of the 16 albums featured in this contest were serious considerations for first place, but it's former Massive Attacker and trip hop pioneer Adrian 'Tricky' Thaws that takes the title. A thoroughly worthy winner for a genre-crunching, beat-breaking, lyric-smudging work of paranoid perfection. "Don't wanna be on top of your list," says Martina Topley-Bird on Tricky's Overcome. Sorry, Martina. Best of 1995 it is.

Further Fats: See the whole Best Albums Of 1995 series here.

Best electronic music albums of 1995: Semi Final 2 – Bjork versus Leftfield

It's the second semi-final in the ongoing contest to decide the best electronic music album of 1995. I'm too excited to look. Someone blindfold me. Poke out my eyes with spoons. Sellotape me into a box and mail me to Peru. It's all too tense to bear.

The winner of this bout will go through to the grand final to meet yesterday's winner. We will then know the best 1995 album and there shall be no more debate. See the series so far here, and see the 16 albums I began with here.

As with the last semi-final, I am judging these albums with some slightly unconventional criteria. Hoping to win my semi-thumbs-up in this most semi-gladiatorial of battles is:

Post by Bjork

Leftism by Leftfield

The hyper-balladeer meets the space shantiers. Jeeves, can you please lube up the contestants and place them into the firing cannon of destiny. One shall win. One shall be spurned forever. The semi-final is go.

Criteria one: which album is best stored in a fridge?

The crystalline atmosphere of Post seems ideal for cold storage, which is a good job because Leftfield lose this on two counts. Firstly, they've got a song called Melt which, let me remind you, is extremely triggering for fridge systems. And they've got some buttery punk loudmouth singing "burn, Hollywood, burn". Only Bjork can deliver safe storage for my dairy goodness.

Winner: Post

Criteria two: which album is the best soundtrack for the lockdown?

The violently happy Bjork would be an ideal companion for being stuck at home. You can both just sit there, "listening to the irritating noises of dinosaurs and people dabbling outside." That would have been the best choice, if it weren't for the futurist defiance of Leftism. "I've got to stand and fight," they say. "Will it ever be the same again?" they ask. The bold sounds of Leftfield are what we needed to narrate a lockdown.

Winner: Leftism

Criteria three: which album would make the best birthday present for an elephant?

I'm not sure the zoos are open as I write this, so I had to make do with throwing CDs at a horse. The rider was furious, and I waffled something about people in Cheltenham breaking distancing rules, which didn't help. But then I played Bjork's It's Oh So Quiet and the shushing really helped calm the rider down. The horse kicked me in the face, but that's beside the point. I'm sure it could please an elephant.

Winner: Post

Criteria four: which album's track titles are a secret code to unlock the secrets of the Illuminati?

To be honest with you, I wasn't really thinking when I included this judging criteria. I'm not into any of that illuminati nonsense, and I don't think Prince William looks much like a lizard. Leftfield have the chanting lyrics of Afro Left and the dubby spaciness of Storm 3000, while Bjork's track title Army Of Me sounds like a the name of a one-man illuminati conspiracy blog. She wins on the track title technicality. But truly, I'm out of my depth here. If we really are run by a cabal of space blobs, I'd be the last one to notice.

Winner: Post

Criteria five: which album can you dance the Macarena to?

The only song acceptable for dancing the Macarena to is the song Macarena. However, if you are going to flout Macarena rules, then you should probably bust your moves to Leftism. Nothing against Post: the carnival vibes of I Miss You are perfect for repetitive choreography. It's just that Leftfield's beats hit harder and for longer: we're talking an extended, dark, after-hours Macarena. A sexy Macarena. 

Winner: Leftism

Criteria six: Which album cover would make the best face tattoo for Fat Roland?

I've always wanted to improve my face: I look like a spud that's been dumped in a river bed. If I had the Bjork album tattooed on my face, then I'd look as good as Bjork, which is very good indeed. If I had the Leftfield album inked on my face, I'd look like some kind of jaw-eyed cyclops. "I'm a space blob," I'd say as people ran screaming. Horses would throw CDs at me. This sounds amazing: Leftfield's all-seeing eye wins.

Winner: Leftism

Criteria seven: miscellaneous and worryingly random

In the worst decision since, er, most decisions in the UK for the past ten years, this section is curated using the random page button on Wikipedia. Here goes. Which album looks brownest? Leftfield, despite Bjork being dressed as an envelope. Which album needs a good wash? Bjork because she sings about standing by the ocean. Which album is a reptile? Despite Leftfield's illuminati leanings, it has to be Bjork for the only reason that Isobel is a great name for a turtle. Which album should have been covered by Jerry Garcia? Jerry lived just long enough to see the release of both featured albums – he would have chosen Bjork. Which album should be played in Liw Castle in Poland? Playing Leftfield in a flipping castle? No brainer. Which album could soundtrack a 1930 German thriller? The sheer drama and intensity of Leftfield would be ideal for this. Which album would be the subject of a satirical story by The Onion? For her headline-grabbing antics and "oh so quiet" dramatics, Bjork.

Winner: Post

Overall winner and going through to the grand final: The gap between the contestants was so narrow, you couldn't have fit Bjork dressed as an envelope between them. The winner is Post by Bjork: her amazing Nellee Hooper-produced album elbows its way into the final. I'm gutted to lose Leftfield: they lost the Mercury Music Prize, and now they lost this.

16 albums began this contest (see the original 16 here) and only two remain. The best electronic music album of 1995 is about to be decided. Don't go turning that blog dial: there's an epic final battle coming our way.

Further Fats: See the whole Best Albums Of 1995 series here.

Best electronic albums of 1995: the semi-final showdown

The battle to find the best electronic music album of 1995 is about to reach a spluttering climax. It's time for the semi-finals.

Sixteen albums went into this competition, facing up against each other in a series of tense one-on-one knock-outs. They faced hash judgement from a panel of judges that consisted of, er, just me. Only four albums remain. They are:

Timeless by Goldie

Maxinquaye by Tricky

Post by Bjork

Leftism by Leftfield

That's right. There are only four of them. The same number as the Beatles or Abba or The Proclaimers looking into a mirror.

The following artists didn't make it to this semi-final: Aphex Twin, Moby, the Chemical Brothers, Higher Intelligence Agency, BT, Carl Craig, Global Communication, Sabres of Paradise, Nightmares on Wax, the Black Dog, David Holmes, Autechre and your gran playing the spoons (disqualified before the competition began).

Moby got knocked out of the competition because of confusing signals from Eamonn Holmes. The Black Dog fell by the wayside because I compared them to a Viennese Whirl. And most controversially, the Chemical Brothers lost out in the first round because I disliked their attitude towards eggs.

This has not been a normal competition.

In the forthcoming semi-final showdown, Goldie's drum & bass classic will grind up against Tricky's towering trip hop debut, while Bjork's oh-so-massive masterpiece will grapple with Leftfield's legendary LP. Only two albums will make it through to the grand final to decide the best electronic album of 1995.

And yes, my judging criteria will no doubt get crazier. Why make things simple, huh.

The very next blog post will be the first semi-final between Golden Balls and the Trickster, er, I mean, Goldie and Tricky. Watch this site for a battle so epic, Lorraine Kelly will do an especially vigorous "och, noooo". In the meantime, catch up on the competition so far to find the best electronic music album of 1995.

Further Fats: the 1995 competition so far

Best electronic music albums of 1995: Quarter Final 3 – Bjork versus Aphex Twin

It's time for another quarter final in the competition to find the best electronic music album of 1995. See the series so far here, and see the 16 albums I started off with here. You may well have been in the middle of getting groceries for your grandma, but that doesn't matter right now: dump those shopping bags in the river, take my hand, and let's skip off into the sunset singing "1995! We feel so alive!"

Today, I pair up two more albums that survived the first round. Only one will make it through to the semi-finals as they face my very strict and, er, sensible judging criteria. Today's contest is between:

Post by Bjork
...I Care Because You Do by Aphex Twin

Two solo acts who have carved a singularly individual musical path. Two albums that cemented their respective reputations. Two album covers that have their face staring straight into camera. What are they thinking? How do they feel about this contest? Are they wearing anything below the waist? Let battle commence.

Criteria one: which album feels too big to fit into a caravan?

There's a clear size difference here. Aphex Twin's third album feels insular, as if we're listening to the reverberations of subterranean pipes. In contrast, Bjork's vision feels open and free: rumour has it, she sung one of these songs to the sea and another one inside a Bahamian cave. Okay, caves are quite insular, but the whole landscape of Post feels bigger. Therefore, for obvious reasons, you ain't getting that album inside that dang caravan no matter how much your Uncle Malcolm brags about his spatial awareness.
Winner: Post

Criteria two: which album has the best individual noise?

Both albums are full of great noises. There's a particularly aggressive fart about four minutes into Aphex Twin's The Waxen Pith, and although the ear-piercing feedback on Ventolin is difficult to take, his rusty snare on Start As You Mean To Go On is a real treat. Bjork's album is an aural rollercoaster, and I especially love the plaintive squeals in the beatless first half of Hyperballad. The problem is, no matter how much Bjork tries, the annoying shushing on It's Oh So Quiet undoes all of her noisy efforts.

Winner: ...I Care Because You Do

Criteria three: which album makes your record collection look coolest?

Both albums make your record collection look cool, especially among all your Nolan Sisters twelve-inches and Keane picture discs. Do those things even exist? Aphex Twin has to win this one, because you can dig out this album at a party and sellotape it to your face to make your friends laugh. "Oh look, you're being Aphex Twin!" they all chortle as they swig the Blue WKD laced with bleach. "Oh look, Aphex Twin has poisoned us!" they gasp as your evil Aphex face smiles back coldly.

Winner: ...I Care Because You Do

Criteria four: which album would you play to ward off a tiger?

The tarnished techno rhythms of ...I Care Because You Do are enough to scare off any big cat. Leopards are particularly wary of MIDI-enabled synthesisers. Meanwhile, Post saw Bjork embracing a bigger sound, giving her only top ten hits of her career. She even became a whole army ("If you complain once more, you'll meet an army of me"). She may have teamed up with Graham Massey and Tricky (see Tricky's quarter final here), but Army of Bjork needs no help: that poor tiger is history.

Winner: Post

Criteria five: which album has the sexiest track titles?

Excuse me while I don my polka dot negligee so I can judge this section properly. Bjork's track titles are proper phwoar. You've Been Flirting Again. Cover Me. I Miss You. Enjoy. I bet Aphex Twin is the sexiest, though. Let's have a look at his track titles. Oh. Er. Wax The Nip. That's about it for sexiness, and I'm not sure nipple waxing is sexy. We're talking the actual nipple rather than any hair growth around it, right? It's going to chafe. I feel very un-phwoar. I'm changing back into my boiler suit. 

Winner: Post

Criteria six: Which album would sound best played on the panpipes?

I'm sorry, I mistook the question. I thought you said bagpipes. I've been blowing into the business end of this sheep for no reason (I couldn't find actual bagpipes). The farmer's going to be furious, especially after last week with the cow and the homemade trebuchet. Look, I haven't got time to judge this criteria properly. I'm pretty sure you could mix some panpipes into Aphex's twisted analogue tapestries, so let's call it a win for him. Today I learned that sheep don't go "toot". Who knew?!

Winner: ...I Care Because You Do

Criteria seven: miscellaneous and worryingly random

This final section is subject to Wikipedia's random page function. Here goes. Which album will kill you? Bjork, especially if you're a photographer (special topical joke, I thank you). Which album would win at the 1948 Summer Olympics? Aphex Twin because his body is (acrid avid jam) shredded. Which album is the most Russian? Aphex has a Siberian coldness, and his track titles certainly look Google-translated from Russian. Which album is best for women's empowerment? Bit of an open goal, this one: it's Bjork. Which album is a luminous red giant? We're back to the landscape thing again: I bet Bjork recorded some of her album on a distant star.

Winner: Post

Overall winner and going through to the quarter-finals: This was the toughest decision of the competition so far: I've so much love for both of these albums. The Aphex album is endlessly playable, but Post saw the creation of a global pop celebrity and the eradication of tigers from most beaches and caves. Bjork scrapes the win and moves to the semi finals. 

There's one more quarter final in this best-of-1995. Be there, or I'll wax your nip. See all the original riders and runners here.

Further Fats: See the whole Best Albums Of 1995 series here.

Best electronic music albums of 1995: the Quarter Finals

Back in the onions of history, I started a contest to decide the best electronic music album of 1995. 

16 albums butted against each other in the most brutal battle since Genghis Khan laid siege to Milton Keynes. The Chemical Brothers and Autechre were some of those who fell by the wayside in the first round: it was not pretty. Since I finished that first round, the entire of civilisation seems to have collapsed, and we are left with just eight albums gingerly staggering towards the quarter finals. 

It is now time for those quarter finals. 

The following albums will face each other daily in a battle so apocalyptic, a butterfly will faint on the other side of the universe. The remaining contestants are:

Quarter final 1:

Freefloater by Higher Intelligence Agency

Timeless by Goldie

Quarter final 2:

Maxinquaye by Tricky

Everything Is Wrong by Moby

Quarter final 3:

Post by Bjork

...I Care Because You Do by Aphex Twin

Quarter final 4:

Landcruising by Carl Craig

Leftism by Leftfield

Some heavyweight candidates there. Which would you choose as the best electronic music album of 1995? Who do you think is going to struggle? 

I don't care how you answered those questions. This is because there's a twist in this contest: it isn't open to a public vote. The winners of each bout are decided by a panel of very experienced experts. The panel consists of, in no particular order:

1. Me.

2. Er...

3. That's it. 

That's right. It's a dictatorship. It's a despotic autocracy. It's a flipping con. The first round saw me eliminating albums on the basis of which would make the best biscuit, or which was best suited to egg-themed karaoke.

In the upcoming quarter-finals, there will be some different yet equally unhelpful criteria on which the judging panel (me) will make their (my) decisions.

Expect a quarter final daily over the next four days. Don your marigolds and stuck a broom up your bum: this is going to get messy. In the meantime, see the series so far here, and see the 16 albums I started off with here.

Further Fats: The Best Albums of 1995 series

Best electronic music albums of 1995: Autechre versus Bjork

When I started this contest to find the best album of 1995 (see the series so far here), I planned to have a new contest daily. But I haven't had the time, so here we are dragging it kicking and screaming through March as if we've got nothing better to do. See the 16 albums I started off with here.

As ever, I use a random number generator to pick each head-to-head. Remember, only one can survive through to the quarter-finals. This time, we have:

Tri Repetae by Autechre
Post by Bjork

Oh this is going to be horrible. Hey children! Which puppy do we throw into the mincer?

Criteria one: which album would make a better biscuit?

This is the album that signalled Autechre's descent into more complicated, awkward, spiky electronic music, so if it was a biscuit it would be the oaty kind that leaves bits in your teeth. With its filmic anthems and bold ballads, Bjork's second album is more showy: perhaps it would be a jaffa cake or one of those flavoured Penguins, but not something we'd traditionally think of as a biscuit.
Winner: Tri Repetae

Criteria two: which album has more bangin' choons?

I want to take Autechre's Clipper and tattoo the sound all over my naked body. I want to knit Clipper's rhythms into a scarf and strangle myself senseless with it. I want to shove Clipper up my bum and bounce on a space hopper until my intestines ping out of my eyes. That said, nothing says "banging tune" more than Army Of Me, Hyperballad, and, well, half the tracks on Post.
Winner: Post

Criteria three: which album's track titles better remind me of cute animals?

I'm not sure the imaginary animals on Autechre's album are that cute. Clipper sounds like an angry dolphin, Stud is an amorous stallion trying to hump everything but the fence post, and Leterel is a sneaky eel that's just signed you up to a timeshare con without you noticing. Bjork's Isobel tells the story of a girl born in a forest, but to the uninitiated, the title sounds like something you'd call a warthog if you were trying to convince people it was cute. In a way, it's the antithesis of cute. Strangely, Autechre wins.
Winner: Tri Repetae

Criteria four: which of the two would Jesus listen to?

I have consulted the runes and they tell me both Bjork and Autechre have Godlike status. Both come from faraway lands (Iceland and Manchester), attracting fanatical followers as they spread their gospel of musical purity. But since Tri Repartae sounds like a sinister Catholic order that flays choirboys for fun, this one has so go to Autechre.
Winner: Tri Repetae

Criteria five: which is the better album to sing songs about eggs to?

As I sat on the bus improvising egg songs over these albums, one artist clearly won through. With Bjork, I managed to loudly sing "it's oh so quail… you fall in l'oeuf…" and "my name's scrambled egg, married to my shell" and "if you complain once more, you'll meet an army of quiche". I tried so hard to match egg words to Autechre, and as my fellow passengers wrestled me to the floor, I had to admit defeat. There's nothing eggy about Autechre.

Winner: Post

Criteria six: which album has the better cover design?

Two drastically different covers. The Designer's Republic deliberately stripped the graphics for Tri Repetae's muddy monotone. The Post cover puts Bjork front and centre, contrasted against her hyper-coloured surroundings. Both covers are great. However, on the Post album, Bjork is dressed as an envelope. Never noticed that before? Have a look. Post. Envelope. Post. Envelope. Absolute genius.

Winner: Post

Criteria seven: miscellaneous and worryingly random

This set of criteria is led by the random article page on Wikipedia, so strap in. Which album is the gayest? Queen Bjork, obviously. Which album would lead a navy? Bjork is feistier than Napoleon: she would lay waste to her enemies. Which album would succeed as a member of a Chinese rowing team? Autechre because there are two of them. Which album is the most legally disputed? Bjork because of Possibly, Maybe. Which album was born in an African tribe 3,000 years ago? Autechre because it sounds like it emanates from the very beginning of time.

Winner: Post

Overall winner and going through to the quarter-finals: This was a tough match, but it's Bjork that moves into the quarter-finals. I'll expect angry letters from Autechre fans. To be honest, though, would the Autechre chaps dress up as envelopes? I wouldn't have thought so.

When I get time, two further albums will face off against each other in an attempt to become the best electronic music album of 1995 as decided by me. See all the riders and runners here.

Further Fats: See the whole Best Albums Of 1995 series here.

In praise of 808 State's Gorgeous (which is gorgeous)

Here is a theory.

If a band calls their album Gorgeous, then everyone thinks it's gorgeous. Witness the scrabble at the record shop counter as dribbling music fans demand to feast on something gorgeous. "Look at this gorgeous album!" you scream at the haggard shop assistant. "It's called Gorgeous!"

Here is how that plays out in practice.

808 State calls their album Gorgeous. People are kinda fine with it, but are still wedded to previous album ex:el. Meanwhile, album tracks Sexy Synthesiser and the UB40-sampling One In Ten sound odd in the long-receding wake of novelty chart rave. Select magazine calls Gorgeous "over-familiar" and gives it three stars.

I have to say, though: Gorgeous was MY album. It came out in 1993, a year in which I was absorbing all the techno like a big shape-throwing sponge. It was my musical 'coming of age' year. Synthesisers WERE sexy. Calling something gorgeous DID make it gorgeous. I even wore the album's t-shirt to ribbons.

There is so much to commend about this album. The sun-soaked steel drums of Plan 9. The deep forest samba of Contrique. The hippy indie vocals on Europa being the most 1990s thing ever. The Loop Guru-style stomp of Southern Cross. And Colony being an out-and-out banger.

Following up 1991's ex:el was tough. That album had Bjork and New Order's Bernard Sumner. While Ian MacCulloch's vocals on Gorgeous's Moses had a Sumner-esque waver to them, serving to remind you of the previous album, Moses was much more of an earworm than any vocal on ex:el.

On ex:el, In Yer Face and Cubik landed with such a thump in the charts, their reverberations were felt for years. Gorgeous was softer somehow, more mature, and there was nothing that would obviously trouble the top ten. This was nice because it felt like my secret underground album: an eccentric collection of post-Balearic bangers (new)built especially for my CD player.

Gorgeous is great, and I have an affection for this album that's probably tied into my 1993 musical awakening. But I reckon I'm right. It's underrated. It might not have sultry lift music or James Dean Bradfield, but it's full of phat sounds. With a ph. And when people talk about pH scales, they're talking about science. Gorgeous is scientifically great.

I demand we reassess this album's status in the pantheon of techno history. Go up to that record counter. Feast on something gorgeous. Dribble all over the "card machine broken" signs and flyers for student club nights. Make sure the shop assistant knows you're serious. "I want gorgeous," you chant. "I want gorgeous. I WANT GORGEOUS." Recite this blog post as security bundle you onto the pavement outside.

You want Gorgeous. Say it. SAY IT.

Further Fats: A good week for old LPs - and if you say 'what's an LP', I'll set fire to your mp3 player (2008)

Further Fats: Zombie'ites! Going underground with Transglobal and Banco De Gaia (2017)

Best electronic albums of 2019: two

2 – Pelada – Movimiento Para Cambio (Pan)

Let's listen to the opening track together. There's the thump-thump of a bass drum. It's joined by a stuttering synth. Here come some finger snaps, but wait, something's happening. Are they speaking Spanish? Yes, I think it's Spanish. They're not stopping for breath. The beat drops. They start yelling. Oh my crap, the voice.

This is Pelada.

There is no album in 2019 that has side-swiped me more than Movimiento Para Cambio, which means "movement for change". Politics runs through Pelada's veins, as any lazy google-translating of their lyrics will attest to. Proper slacktivist, me.

It's also musically a rich experience. I love the snap of Habla Tu Verdad, the soft melt of Granadilla and the glorious stadium techno reverb of Aquí.  I flipping love everything. It's Canadian Chicago house in Spanish, via New York punk and 1990s dance music.

Put the production and politics together and you get this strange Robin S-tinction Rebellion pairing. And what a pair. The fierce vocals of Chris Vargas are alarming and may send some running for the hills, but their arresting energy constantly delights. Producer Tobias Rochman clearly bathes daily in dance music history: the album has the same try-it-and-see bedroom production vibe that made, for example, Bjork’s Debut so charming.

Now let's stop listening to the opening track together. Why are you even sat on my lap? Weirdo.



Scroll the full best-of-2019 list here.

Music nerds obsess: it's Bjork time

The spirit of her 2001 album Verspertine is alive and well on Bjork's latest track Blissing Me.

In this video, she appears to have her dress stitched into her face and some significant fungal ear growth. I'd have that looked at if I were her.

It's impressive stuff, and the lyrics have a delightfully ordinary moment:

"Is this excess texting a blessing?
Two music nerds obsessing"

Funny how texting seems retro now. Enjoy the stitching and the growth and the obsessing.

Best electronic albums of 2015: five

5 – Bjork – Vulnicura (One Little Indian)

How I hated Oh So Quiet. “How kooky” everyone exclaimed as I bit my lip and gnashed my teeth. Bjork was always much more than “kooky”, expressing depths in ways that left your garde well and truly avanted.

Vulcinura is a return to form, but only in the way that one grades good and “bad” Coen Brothers films. The presence of Arca, featured elsewhere in this top ten, could have made this a clinical exercise in weirdness, but Bjork allows us to “explore the negative space” (Mouth Mantra) in a personal way I’ve not seen for a while. This meant to be Bjork’s relationship breakup album, and a sense of loss is drizzled throughout: not only her own pain, but for me it also recalled memories of her work with Mark Bell.

There are no singles here, but plenty of highlights. Lionsong has a naive simplicity that wouldn’t be out of place on debut. Stonemilker is a gorgeous rhapsody and a downright earworm. Black Lake gives us a spine-tingling ten minutes: the themes suspend and resolve yet never lose us – a microcosm of the album itself.

Vulnicura’s great. She really likes albums beginning with V, doesn’t she? How “kooky”.

-----> Best electronic albums of 2015 <-----

My Harder Better Blog Writing Tour Faster Process Monday Fats

There's a blog tour going around like some kind of Swedish/Danish eco terrorist plague. You can see previous postings of this by Daniel Carpenter, who tagged me, Sarah Jasmon, David Hartley, Iain Moloney, Simon Sylvester, Kathleen Jones and many other writers.

The tour has been called various names, mostly My Writing Process, Blog Tour and Blog Tour Monday. I wanted my contribution to be part of my Harder Better Faster Fats series. So I shall call mine the somewhat catchy My Harder Better Blog Writing Tour Faster Process Monday Fats.

First, as in the rest of this series, let's start with a soundtrack:



WHAT AM I WORKING ON?

“The humans are busy today. They scurry.” Nuke (unpublished)

Everything and/or too much.

I’m the type of person who needs activity. Friends will know me to be a prolific finger-in-pie merchant, careening from studio to stage, from tweeting to designing to doodling.

The one thing I learned about myself in the hurricane of the last ten years is that I have a pathological terror of boredom. And so I create and create and create, sometimes to the detriment of my immediate environment and my health.

Therefore, 2014 will be a strange year. It will be a year in which I aim to take on new commitments; the kind of commitments which are as exciting as anything else I do but will also mean that other people will rely on me.

This means less careening; less cascading from one unrelated thing to another. If the year goes well, I will also have crammed under my belt the best part of short story collection of entirely new work.

HOW DOES MY WORK DIFFER FROM OTHERS IN ITS GENRE?

“A worm tries to burrow into my face. All it finds is cold, irritated human skin, a football field of blotches.” Norway (Peirene Press, 2013)

Let me answer that as honestly as I can.

Unrelenting bullying in primary and secondary school led me to build two robust self-defence mechanisms: food and humour. The former I abuse, and the weight you see hanging off my bones can be considered a form of self-abuse. The latter I express through wit and performance to the delight, mostly, of friends and audiences.

Add to this a sharp sense of tragedy due to the sudden death in my teens of my brilliant and incredible mother, stir once, cover and simmer.

Many writers will baulk at the thought of being lumped into a ‘genre’ and I will do the same. But how does my writing differ? The comic-tragedy and darkness of what I do comes from a place that is real and raging within; when this doesn't come through in my work, I'm either not trying or I have failed.

WHY DO I WRITE WHAT I DO?

“The other day, she crushed a bauble until it burst into powder. The cuts on her palm were invisible and stung like hell.” And This Is My Mother (Merry Gentlemen, 2013)

I grew up on a diet of joke books and Edward Lear, of the Ying Tong Song and the Ning Nang Nong. I’ve also always loved novels and short stories, from literary to comic to horror, and my first memory of secondary school was getting an A+ for a short story about the London Underground.

I’ve never not thought of myself as a writer; indeed, my first proper job was on a newspaper, an experience that solidified some key elements about my approach to writing fiction:

- Life is absurd;
- Life is tragic;
- Stories are infinite;
- You can achieve a lot in very few words;
- Structure in writing is everything;
- I wish I didn't need deadlines, but I do.

HOW DOES MY WRITING PROCESS WORK?

“You look old, he says instead of thinking. You look old and almost dead.” Hoops (unpublished)

I’m writing this at 4am having been awake since an early-evening snooze that left my body clock wilted and useless, Dali-like. So here I am, under my duvet, in my pants, listening to the rain on the window and wondering if I will ever sleep again. I wouldn't call this "process" but it has certainly given me the space to come up with a new short story idea about a fantastical cavity search. Result!

My writing process involves:

- notebooks;
- backs of envelopes;
- phone notes;
- my laptop;
- my home PC;
- early alarm calls;
- testing stuff out live;
- short walks;
- long walks;
- dreams;
- a constant fear of death;
- too many Bic biros for one man;
- and a dogged restlessness that some may find exhausting. Fingers in pies, fingers in pies.

It boils down to getting down the word-count, but being clear in my vision of what I want to say before my bum hits the seat.

IN SUMMARY

And with this fourth instalment, the Harder Better Faster Fats series comes to an end. Forgive me if I don't tag anyone to continue this particular branch of the blog tour.

Earlier in this post, I mentioned my two self-defence mechanisms. Both could be my downfall. My overeating is a considerable creative block and a continuing struggle, while on a lesser note, humour is an easy refuge from the apocryphal vein-opening gushing that 'truthful' writing is meant to require.

Back in my journalism days, Bjork said in an interview something along the lines of this: she destroys herself at the end of the day, then rebuilds herself all over again.

I love that as a coping mechanism for all the detritus that life splashes at us. Like the refrain of All Is Full Of Love, it's an idea that has circled and circled in glorious repetition over my life for many years.

Destroy, renew.

Destroy, renew.

Create, create, create.

(Pictured: Bjork)

(Fiction excerpts: me)

Eight people I would definitely or definitely not torture

It is October. This blog has been dormant since July. It looks like Fat Roland on Electronica has ground to a pathetic halt. I could vomit excuses at you, but I won't. All I can say is I want to blog more. And will.

Instead of excuses, here is a list of musicians I would definitely and/or would definitely NOT torture if given the chance.

Justin Bieber

Would chuck him into a swimming pool filled with used tighty whities and the tears of his adoring fans.

Drake

Would take Drake (pictured) to the flattest part of earth where everything is painted magnolia, then have Robert Peston describe Last of the Summer Wine plots at him until he dies of boredom.

Jon Hopkins

Would not torture him. Would make him a little crown in the shape of a Korg Kaoss pad.

Miley Cyrus

Would show her Madonna’s Justify My Love, Rihanna’s X Factor nudity, Erykah Badu’s illegal Dallas disrobing and Amanda Palmer’s Daily Mail song strip, then have all of Miley’s fans shout “SO?” at her for the rest of eternity.

Four Tet

Would not torture him. Instead, would spend a romantic evening with him because of his beautiful music. We would eat ice cream, feed each other biscuits with our feet, then spoon while watching less successful episodes of Friends. I know how to have a good time.

Robin Thicke

Would tell him he was to be tortured on peak-time TV then have him turn up to an empty room with the word DISAPPOINTMENT scrawled on the wall.

Bjork

Would not torture her. Would make her queen of the universe, then have the whole universe destroyed while she laughed maniacally to the rhythm of Windowlicker. She’d like that.

Boards of Canada

Would definitely torture them. It’d be dark: leeches, probes, tweezers, strange hats. I've nothing against them: I'd just be interested in what they'd sound like if they were even more melancholic and desolate.

Further Fats: The devil has all the best IDM: Jon Hopkins (2010)

Best electronica albums of 2011: numbers 4 to 2

We are approaching the Album Of The Year much in the same way an astronaut with an upside-down map is heading for the sun. By the time you finish reading this blog post, you should be in a position to try and guess the winner of this year’s top accolade.

Meanwhile, let’s check out the nearly gang in our penultimate collection of also-rans. Once that's done, we'll crank up the Top Of The Bleeps theme music with numbers 4 to 2.

[This is part three. Click here for part one. Click here for part two. Click here for part four.]

Some also-rans

I’m very sad to exclude Björk, especially after her triumphant performance of the Attenborough-tastic Biophilia (One Little Indian). She had a Tesla coil for crap’s sake. However, although she is on top of her game right now, it’s not really electronica of the Fat Roland On Electronica variety.

At the very bottom of their game is Paris’s own Justice, whose new album Audio, Video, Disco (Ed Banger) was such a mess, I wasn’t sure if Spinal Tap were having a seizure: at first amusing then just painful and sad. Imagine The Who teaming up with David Guetta. No, it wouldn’t be fantastic, you’re wrong. In 2011, Justice made me cross.

Mark Pritchard and Steve Spacek’s Africa HiTech project was a joy to the ears: 93 Million Miles (Warp) was bristling with bass and bad attitude – but not a top ten spot. Also not in the top ten is Biosphere, whose nuclear-themed concept album N-Plants (Touch) was gorgeous and just okay at the same time, while SBTRKT’s SBTRKT (Young Turks) was filed along with Nero in the grey bin next to my desk marked ‘pop’.

4 - Modeselektor - Monkeytown

In 1998, Thom Yorke threw a rabbit into the headlights and set the standard for guest vocalists on Unkle’s debut Psyence Fiction. It’s remarkable then that he should return all these years later and equal that achievement on Modeselektor’s third album Monkeytown (Monkeytown). It’s not the first time they have worked together, of course, but the tracks Shipwreck and This are hypnotic and beguiling.

Beyond the Yorkie bombs are other highlights: the hotstepping German Clap, the digital urgency of the loping Grillwalker, the emotive melody on the PVT-collaboration Green Light and the absurd hip hop of Pretentious Friends (“the pâté was fabulous!”).

We’re so spoilt with this Berlin duo’s dexterity, confidence and (whisper it) pop sensibilities, it almost seems a shame that the claustrophobic Shipwreck b-side Dull Hull isn’t on show too.

Unstoppable, bass-driven, ear-hugging digitalism: this is the rise of the town of the monkeys. Come on my ‘selektor.

3 - Plaid - Scintilli

Plaid are a duo that arose from godfathers of bleepery The Black Dog and became the techno musician’s techno musician, much in the same way that Stewart Lee is the comedian’s comedian and your great granddad is the racist’s racist.

Until now, Spokes was their best post-1990s album: it had amazing tunes but, unlike actual spokes, didn’t quite hang together as a whole. Scintilli (Warp) is the scintillating icing on the, um, spoke cake.

Opening with jingling guitars, which brings to mind 2001’s Eyen, we’re quickly smothered with choral sorrow and their trademark awkward chord progressions. Eye Robot brings in the fuzzy techno, Thank leads us into the cheery eeriness seen on many a Plaid album and by the fourth track, the anthemnic Dr Who work-out of Unbank, we’re ready for a tea break. The rest of the album careers from sunny dance numbers (African Woods) to sheer strangeness (Talk To Us), but it’s all perfectly Plaid.

This band has spent five years dabbling in other media, most notably for their audio-visual project Greedy Baby, but they have been in danger of seeing their traditional fans drift off. In that respect, Plaid have checked themselves and produced their best album for at least ten years.

2 - Martyn - Ghost People

The Brainfeeder label was the success story of 2010, with important releases from Lorn, Teebs and The Gaslamp Killer, and a crucial partnership with Ninja Tune. They were responsible for the return of Mr Ozio this year and they were even a headline feature in the Guardian a month or two ago.

All along, however, I felt that without a Brainfeeder-labelled album from their godlike founder Flying Lotus (he releases on Warp), they’d never quite crack it. They just needed something... something extra. I don’t know. Something indefinable. A ghost, maybe.

Ghost People (Brainfeeder) is a spectre to behold and should be the album that propels Brainfeeder into the premier league. I’m mixing metaphors again. Martyn has produced an aural dystopia in which shards of rave and techno have darkness cast upon them until they glisten molten musical antimatter.

Popgun could just be bouncy Joy Orbison dubstep with the occasional vocal grunt, but the atmospherics lift the sound into something greater than its parts. The driving Bauplan is so beautifully melodic, you either want to go for a run or a cry. And the choppy We Are You In The Future sounds like the theme music for every techno track ever recorded. Everyone is trying this sound, but Martyn does it best.

I wrestled over the decision whether to make Martyn’s Ghost People my album of the year or not. But no. There is another. A debut album so great, so absorbing, with such unique production, it ought to have every kid with a smidgen of soul mimicking his sound. Stay tuned, dear reader, for my Album Of The Year 2011.

[This is part three. Click here for part one. Click here for part two. Click here for part four.]

My Bjork message is simpler than you think

Brains are funny things. Especially mine.

Just as I was about to scribble down my excitement about tonight's Biophilia concert by Icelandic songstress Bjork, my cerebral cortex hiked off to the picket lines and didn't come back.

Originally, this post would have raved about the hooded choir, the strange pendulum plucking instrument, the Tesla coil and the National Geographic loveliness dripping from every phase of the gig.

Really though, all I want to type is a literal interpretation of the drool currently drizzling onto my keyboard.

Kicking off in Manchester, Bjork is exploring her idea of earth and nature through a series of residencies throughout the world.

Internationally speaking, it's a bold move. It's also unlike any other Bjork show I have seen before. High concept, low bass, blown minds.

Set in a warehouse at the Museum of Science and Industry, tonight's first official gig (there have been previews) was a raucous affair, with a crowd that was ready for anything.

And yet, throughout, it reduced me to being the worst blogger ever. Because I can't explain the beauty, the uncompromising surreality or my amazement at her being the only vocalist of her standing that doesn't flinch from hard techno nastiness.

Check out the wig she wears in the show. I want that wig. I shouldn't be writing. I should be making myself a Bjork Biophilia wig.

Even so, I soldier on and produce blog posts like this that go nowhere and, initially, have absolutely no hidden message at all...

Fat Roland's 2010 electronica preview, part two: The Official BBC Electronica DJs In Need Medley

This is part two of my 2010 preview. Here is the link for part one.

Writing a preview for 2010 is easy for earlier in the year. Once you get into spring onwards, it all gets a little fuzzy. So here's my attempt at a preview of electronic music in the rest of 2010, but it may look a little like a blind man punching at the wind.

April - December: "boom bang a bang"

In yesterday's preview, I missed the somewhat tribal Nice Nice and their See Waves single in February. But what I can say is, in April they will give us Extra Wow, an album advertised by their label as a "sprawling psychedelic monolith." I also missed Soma 2010, the Glaswegian techno label's slightly delayed annual compilation bonanza.

Flying Lotus's DJ Kicks CD, mentioned yesterday, should get an mid-April release. Meanwhile, in May, Venetian Snares will win the Eurovision song contest with his version of Boom Bang A Bang. Okay, I lied about that bit.

As summer bears its sweaty heat down upon us, you should go and see Orbital: they'll be touring again, in particular at the Isle Of Wight festival in the middle of June.

LFO collaborator Bjork will appear on the soundtrack to summer 2010’s guaranteed blockbuster movie Moomins And The Comet Chase. Yep. That’s right. The Moomins. Imagine Moon, but replace all the Sam Rockwells with talking marshmallows. This is going to be a classic.

And I can bring your more information about Battles. The band called a ceasefire while Tyondai Braxton worked through some solo stuff, but it’s back to war again in 2010 – well, at least, in the second half of 2010 when their new album is due.

And finally, for scheduled releases in 2010, it's time to get Parisian on yo ass. Daft Punk have been leaking Tron Legacy images on their Twitter feed. The duo have recorded the soundtrack to the film, although it’s not due for release until Christmas 2010. I reckon this will at least ten per cent better than the Moomins film.

Other electronica releases in 2010: "glitchy wonkiness"

Like an unwashed Top Gear fan, I am severely lacking in dates. But this much I know is true:

Eclectic 2-stepper FaltyDL, who delivered Love Is a Liability for Planet Mu this year, is working on a disco album. In less exciting news, "crazy” beat jugglers The Avalanches are in the process of clearing samples for an album supposedly due out in '10 – but don’t hold your breath.

I read somewhere that Boards of Canada have been working on material for three years and it should hit in 2010, but I that’s all I know. And while I'm speculating, Bibio released about 42,000 albums in 2009, so don’t be too surprised to see more material in 2010.

Ikonika will be hopping from Planet Mu to the excellent Hyperdub label to produce a soulful dubstep album without all the wobbly basslines. Hyperdub is not only due to release material from London rookie DVA and long-time grime producer Terror Danjah - they're also promising a debut single from a new artist they're refusing to name.

The glitchy wonkiness foisted on us by Glasgow's LuckyMe crew should continue to be a highlight for 2010. The most anticipated album of 2010, for my money, is the one by Rustie. Assuming he gets round to recording one. And Hudson Mohawke is working on material with Olivier Daysoul – whether it means another album, we’ll have to wait and see.

Expect an album from De Tropix, whose Adeyhey joint has been smearing dancefloors this year. De Tropix is aa London duo that bridges the gap between Prince Buster and Neneh Cherry,

You can also expect something from Gold Panda, with his lovely mix of techno wandering and folktronic meandering. Broadcast will produce an album in 2010, following up their amazingly entitled 2009 production Broadcast And The Focus Group Investigate Witch Cults of the Radio Age.

Oh and there's Manchester band's Everything Everything's debut album too. And the Klaxons maybe. And lots of stuff from the Outkast boys. And Floating Points. And Tiefschwarz. And Beak, a.k.a. that bloke from Portishead.

Let me leave you with a final thought from the greatest dance band of all time.

The Vengaboys recently started touring again and are working on a new single to be released soon. Their producers Danski and Delmundo have released a statement that possibly summarises 2010's potential musical legacy. The Vengaboys say:

"2010 is the year! Look out for the new hit! It's the most gay song we've ever made."

Actual quote. Brilliant. That's enough blogging for a couple of days. I'm off for a lie down and a pint of whisky.

This is part two of my 2010 preview. Here is the link for part one.

Trouser-goosing Snares, menacing woodwinds and dribbling my tongue at Björk

Venetian Snares has turned in a brand new EP, Horsey Noises, to go alongside recent splooj-guzzling album Filth (which I writted about here).

The eponymous title track sets some commercial vocals (asking a horsey girl to make horsey noises) against loose drumming and a trouser-goosing bassline. Just when you think he's cantering through some abstract DJ Food-isms, he cracks it up to full-on rave. Aphex Twin tried vocals when he sang about milkmen in the mid-90s, and this is exactly the same wrong side of deranged.

Meanwhile, music technology geek Monolake (pictured) has taken time out from designing midi controllers (no, please, don't click away) to produce his first new material since the 2006 album Polygon Cities.

His new single is called Atlas / Titan, and the two dub-inspired techno tracks are as massive as they sound. The bass on Atlas bangs its fists angrily before the woodwind - yes, woodwind - adds a whole new level of growling menace. It's Autechre in a bloody bad mood. Flip-side Titan is as joyfully dark, but a little duller.

Finally, Icelandic princess Björk has offered us many treats on her new album Voltaic. She has filmed her tour promoting her last album Volta, where her vocals soared above the abstract atmospherics of LFO's Mark Bell, but she's decided that's not enough.  She has also rammed in about 92,000 other discs, including Volta music videos, a one-take live set recorded before Glastonbury 2007, and a swathe of remixes from the likes of Simian Mobile Disco and Matthew Herbert.

It's probably the most comprehensive album and DVD package ever to exist. Well, okay, it's probably not. But you should buy it because you're in tongue-dribbling awe of Björk's ability to be both a superstar and relentlessly uncompromising.