Full-mast hysteria: waving the flag for electronic music

 

Everyone's getting their cummerbunds in a twist over flags. Racists brandish St George crosses, idiots vandalise mini-roundabouts, and union jack underpant sales have gone through the roof. Probably.

In an effort to reclaim the national debate, I have designed six flags dedicated to electronic music. Shall we plaster pubs in these emblems instead? Replace the UK national anthem with Ageispolis by Aphex Twin? Yes. Let's do that. If you're reading this, please make that happen, the King. 

The first flag I designed is a red-white-blue rendering of the Aphex Twin logo (see above). This feels very flaggy indeed, and could be a distant cousin of the flag of Laos or maybe North Korea.

However, there's a problem or two. There's too much flag about this flag. Electronic music should be more creative than this. And the existing Aphex logo is black and white, which are the flag colours of his native Cornwall. No, we can do better.

This is my flag design based on Leftfield's Leftism. The shark jaw is pretty intact, and the embedded camera is represented by a series of circles. You do get animals on real-world flags – Wales has a dragon and Bhutan has a, er, dragon – but bits of bones are less common. Should flags have teeth? Vexillum dentata?

A simple T. Or is it? This one breaks a cardinal rule of flags: no fades. However, the speaker design feels geometrically pleasing. The KLF were notorious for their flag-flying, banner-raising live performances, so this redesign of their 1991 album The White Room seems apropos. The flag of Mu Mu Land.

Here is a flag version of Autechre's Oversteps album.  I did consider the designs for their numerous NTS releases, which were plastered with brilliantly blocky Designers Republic fonts. But I couldn't resist this more basic artwork, which is, essentially, the Japan flag with all of its colour and joy removed. Very much like an Autechre live performance, in a good way.

It was either this or the brown album. One thing I've noticed about actual national flags is that the colours are often bold. Look at Bangladesh's contrasting eye-popper or Seychelles' vivid fan of fun. Eyes will certainly be popped with this flag, based on Orbital's green album (Orbital 1). This flag feels lickable, which is something I always look for when hoisting a banner. 

I was drawn to Man-Machine by Kraftwerk because of its colours, and the geometry of the album text in its upper corner. But how to represent the band itself? Four simple polygons. And what are flags other than an arrangement of polygons. The main down side of this one is that once you think it looks like Hitler, that's something you can't get out of your head. Dammit, that's ruined it. Shouldn't have said anything. Sorry.

Flags are not bad things. They're fun, and we all want to cling on to identity and community. But let's keep them fun: everyone loves a bit of bunting. However – and this is just a suggestion – maybe let's not use flags to cause division and intimidate the vulnerable. If you're using a flag as a weapon, you are the weapon.

Further Fats: Blowin' in the wings – why protest songs should return to centre stage (2009)

Further Fats: I'm too techno to be Brexit (2017)

Belief to the Max: What my brain enjoyed at BlueDot 2023

I never thought I would make it to BlueDot Festival. As mentioned in a previous blog post, my brain exploded and I've been quite poorly.

But made it, I did. It was a real achievement, like Neil Armstrong walking on the moon, or even more impressively, the moon walking all over Neil Armstrong. One small step for a pre-stroke Roland, but a giant leap considering my recent circumstances. 

BlueDot is an annual festival dedicated to music and science. The music often has an electronic music bent, which is my favourite kind of bent. And the science side of the programming is especially relevant because the festival takes place at the Jodrell Bank observatory, its giant outer space magic dish looming wherever you go.

Honestly, that dish is so dang cool, firing its radio waves with abandon at the furthest reaches of space. The dish constantly moves throughout the weekend, and during headline performances it becomes the trendiest projection screen this side of Venus. The dish is especially exciting for Doctor Who fans, of which there are many at BlueDot. Firstly, a TV prop version of the telescope killed off the Tom Baker Doctor Who. And secondly, the dish often moves position when you're not looking, like those scary statues in Blink.

So let's go through some favourite acts from the weekend.

Pop powerhouse Georgia plays all of the instruments all of the time. Joyous sunshine on a cloudy day. Her father Leftfield also played the festival, Neil Barnes' perfect sound design making him a contender for the loudest act of the weekend, perhaps tying in the decibel destruction stakes with the raucous Snapped Ankles.

We danced like crazy to Acid Klaus, a wonderfully hedonistic party band led by Adrian Flanagan from the International Teachers Of Pop. Onipa was my surprise of the weekend. They gave us a relentless Afrobeat explosion led by human Duracell bunny KOG. Irresistible  Ghanaian rhythms colliding enthusiastically with UK electronica. And the bawdy electrostomp of MADMADMAD brought on the cowbell apocalypse while, later in the gig, channeling the ferocity of very early Chemical Brothers.

There was so much more, including Grace Jones and TVAM and Creep Show, but let's end things with my top two bestest fave acts of the weekend. 

Belief were in many ways on of the simplest acts in the line-up. Two guys, a bunch of gear, not much else. But when it's acid house of such housey acidity, I'm not complaining. Oh, it was so good. 

And all hail Max Cooper, whose audiovisual extravaganza I'd failed to catch on two previous occasions. He. Was. Stunning. One of the best gigs I've been to, with super duper techno gorgeousness soundtracking colossal juxtaposing visuals. I mean, really colossal. Front rail, eyes the size of jellyfish, brain flung into the cosmos.

There's much I missed, including most of Grace Jones because I was busy maxxing out to Max Cooper. The endless deluge of mud curtailed much of my casual browsing, so I missed Adam Buxton and Toby Hadoke and Pavement. The one talk I did catch was the brilliant Matthew Cobb talking about all the horrible diseases that are going to destroy humankind. Maybe not the best talk to attend when you're up to your neck in mud, but hey ho.

A special shout-out to Nina, Nick, Dave, my surprise neighbour Angela from Nine Arches Press, my glamping tent which lessened the worst effects of the mid, the topless drunk dancer who fed me pizza, and the horrible person who did a big Mr Whippy poo in the showers.

Roll on 2024.

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 4 – Carl Craig versus Leftfield

What is the best electronic music album of 1995 (see the series so far here)? You no doubt have an opinion, especially if you check out the 16 albums that started this competition off. But opinions are like holiday homes on the Costa Daurada: everyone's got one. The only opinion that matters in this ongoing competition is mine. And if that sounds egotistical, then, er, sorry about that. Yeesh. I'm a real douche.

This is the last quarter final before we move into the semi finals. The stakes are high. Today's bout is between:

Landcruising by Carl Craig
Leftism by Leftfield

Carl Craig and Leftfield both began their careers in 1989, and both went on to shape electronic music. A sped-up spin of Craig's Bug In The Bassbin supposedly lay the groundwork for drum 'n' bass, while the 'field are credited as starting the genre of progressive house. It will be a shame to lose either of them. Brace yourself.

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

Carl Craig pays tribute to his motor city hometown, evoking sunny drives with the window wound down. Following that logic, it would be pretty difficult to fit a road inside a caravan. On the other hand, Leftfield's space shanties evoke an entire universe of texture and colour. Their sound system was so incendiary, it once stripped the plaster off the roof of a venue. Fitting Landcruising into a caravan might be like trying to fit a camel through the eye of a needle, but getting Leftism into that glorified shed would be like shoving a whole flipping solar system into the atoms of the needle itself.

Winner: Leftism

Criteria two: which album has the best individual noise?

Carl Craig's got some great vroom vroom car sounds. I would have preferred choo choo sounds, but sometimes you've just got to take what you're given. Leftfield have barely any transport sounds: not even a tractor. That said, they've got tonnes of strange and wonderful noises: bleepy radar bits on Original; funny bubbly bits on Melt; an electronic wobble board bit on Release The Pressure; and a bit where a guy goes waaaah like he's doing a mad skateboard trick which I suppose technically is a form of transport.

Winner: Leftism

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

I remember Leftism coming out so clearly. It was beautiful chunk of vinyl, and looked superb on my coffee table next to my nose flute. "Look at this lovely album," I would tell visitors. "Is that a nose flute?" they would enquire. "Stop looking at the nose flute," I would scream. I didn't get many visitors. Leftfield are cool, but Landcruising looks way cooler. It's dark and mysterious, and the clash of the car emblem and the dot matrix text only raises questions. You'd not keep it on a coffee table: maybe that's why it's cooler.

Winner: Landcrusing

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

A walkover for Leftfield. They've got John Lydon on their side, threatening to open things up and burn Hollywood to the ground. He's the original Tiger King. If Johnny Rotten was cornered by a snarling tiger, he'd smear it in butter, which tigers famously hate. Carl Craig not only fails to repel tigers, he's a positive tiger magnet. Want proof? He's from Detroit and their baseball team is called the Detroit Tigers: that's how bad he is at warding them off. Useless.
Winner: Leftiism

Criteria five: which album has the sexiest track titles?

Carl Craig's track titles are a bit dry. Home Entertainment, Technology, Mind Of A Machine. I'd imagine a date with this album would result in an early night: me getting into bed on my own while Landcruising fixes the VHS player. Leftism fares a little better: the track titles Open Up, Melt and Release The Pressure could all be mistaken for b-sides to Madonna's Justify My Love. Even then, I'm not terribly excited, even if the Leftfield title Inspection (Check One) is a euphemism lifted straight out of a Carry On film. Oo-er missus.

Winner: Leftism

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

The staccato synth stabs of They Were rolled off my panpipes like lemmings off a cliff, and the wandering lackadaisical melody of One Day Soon floated seamlessly into the air like, er, lemmings floating up a cliff. A good result for Carl Craig. And while the opening siren call of Leftfield's Melt was easy to follow, the panpipes sounded naff against their speaker-rattling production. A win for the lemmings, Er, I mean... a win for Carl Craig. Just to clarify, Carl Craig is not a lemming. If anything, he looks like a handsome baby seal.
Winner: Leftism

Criteria seven: miscellaneous and worryingly random

Because I'm reckless and want to watch the world burn, this final criteria is generated using Wikipedia's random page function. Which album could scale an Austrian mountain range? Carl Craig because he's land cruising. Which album has fourfold rotational symmetry? Leftism thought their album didn't quite hang together at first, so Carl Craig must be more symmetrical. Which album would win a TV talent show? Leftfield because John Lydon would show off to the judges. Which of the two albums would make the best Mongolian poet? Leftfield's 21st Century Poem may ignore thousands of years of pre-2000 Mongolian history, but at least they have a poem. Which album would make the best Christmas tree to create a home for the cartoon chipmunks Chip n' Dale? Carl Craig and I'm not explaining why.

Winner: Landcruising

Overall winner and going through to the quarter-finals: A landsliding win for Leftfield, as they scoop five of the seven sets of judging criteria. Looks like they're the one to beat as they move to next week's semi final. In 2005, Carl Craig released a reedited version of Landcruising called The Album Formerly Known As..., updating some of the sounds, Maybe he was anticipating this very competition. Too little too late, Carl. Too little, too late.

Next week, I launch the semi finals of this stupid contest to find the best electronic music album of 1995. Stay tuned. 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: Global Communication versus Leftfield

Welcome to the last opening heat 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. After this post, we'll get to the quarter finals. This was only to meant to last a week: it's been a month since I started, and the whole of civilisation has collapsed in the meantime. By the time we reach the grand final, Earth will be a shrivelled husk drifting aimlessly through the frozen far reaches of space. All is doomed. Let's play some albums!

Here are the final two choices that haven't faced my keen-eared criticism yet:

Remotion by Global Communication
Leftism by Leftfield

Uh oh. A slightly niche remix project long out of circulation versus a Mercury Prize-nominated behemoth that defined 1990s dance music culture. This truly is a David and Goliath battle. It's King Canute in his deckchair facing the incoming tide. It's that Skywalker bloke against all those horrible people in helmets that had the big metal ball in space, y'know, the one that wasn't a moon. Let the battle commence.

Criteria one: which album would make a better biscuit?

The Global Communication album comprises remixes of acts such as Chapterhouse and The Grid, and certainly has the kind of pick-and-mix attitude worthy of the crumbly world of biscuits. However, scratch under the surface, and it's not much more than a coconut-flavoured Nice. The Leftfield album, meanwhile, packs more of a varied flavour palate: it is Ginger Nuts, Oreo and Wagon Wheels combined.
Winner: Leftfield

Criteria two: which album has more bangin' choons?

Another win for Leftfield. Quite aside from the barn-storming Release The Pressure, John Lydon's hell-raising rant on Open Up is the definition of "bangin' tune". Seriously. Grab a dictionary from your shelf. Look up the word "bangin'". Is the definition just a photograph of John Lydon trying to sell you butter? Told you so. Now look up the word "moustache". Is there a picture of a buffalo? If so, your dictionary is broken and you should ignore this entire paragraph.
Winner: Leftfield

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

The tropical pretensions of Leftism count against Leftfield here: as everyone knows, you don't get cute animals in hot countries (don't google this). And while Remotion isn't overflowing with furry creatures, it does have Wild Horse, and a track called Le Soleil Et La Mer which I'm pretty sure is french for A Sealion And A Mouse. Again, don't google this. Also "Global Communication" is an anagram of "clinical, numb moo-goat", so there's that.
Winner: Global Communication

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

I've just received this letter, postmarked 'heaven'. Let me just read it. "Dear Fat Roland," it says, "Jesus here. I object most strongly to your inclusion of Leftism in this blog series. I tried listening to this with my disciples and it was mostly enjoyable. It's got a good beat. However, the moment when that John Lydon fellow says 'bigger than God' was most offensive. Smite you. Yours sincerely, Jesus Christ." Oh dear. It looks like Remotion wins by default – but that's okay: it's an angelic-sounding album.
Winner: Global Communication

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

Global Communication had some good egg-singing opportunities. In Delta Phase, I found myself singing the phrase "lovely eggs, I just want some lovely eggs," while on Epsilon Phase, it was possible to repeatedly sing the line "Have to add some cheese, reaching to the knife, chopping all the thyy-yyme." However, there was much more on the Leftfield album, with eggy lyrics including "I've got to stand and fry" and "You're original, with your own pan" and "You fried, you baked, you beated, you made some eggs" and "ovum up, make room for cheese". Sp-egg-tactular.
Winner: Leftfield

Criteria six: which album has the better cover design?

The 'jawbone lens' design on the Leftfield album cover is beautifully done, and I remember buying my gatefold vinyl edition with pride. In a nice coincidence for this randomly-curated contest, Leftfield's cover designer Jonathan Cooke also did the artwork for the US release of a Chapterhouse remix album by Global Communication, which incidentally featured two tracks from Remotion. Unfortunately, the cover artwork of Remotion itself is a bit, er, Word Art. Leftfield wins this one.
Winner: Leftfield

Criteria seven: miscellaneous and worryingly random

This final set of criteria is guided by the wisdom of Wikipedia's random page button. Here goes. Which album is more Italian? Leftfield is a bit Afro, and Remotion has French track titles – the latter wins for being slightly closer to Italy. Which album smells fishy? Leftfield because of its Space Shanty. Which album is worse for your eyesight? The Leftfield album features a camera lens, so it must be Global Communication. Which album should be home to migratory birds? Global Communication because they can perch on the Wild Horse. Which album would be better at digging wells in south western India? Oh CHEERS for that, Wikipedia. Global is a deeper listen so, er, them.
Winner: Global Communication

Overall winner and going through to the quarter-finals: Taking the final place in the quarter-finals is Leftfield's Leftism. Goliath won over David, but it was a close call. Good job, really: I don't want to get beaten up by John Lydon.

The next phase of this neverending battle will be the quarter-finals, which will feature (SPOILER if you haven't read all the blog posts so far): Freefloater by Higher Intelligence Agency versus Timeless by Goldie; Maxinquaye by Tricky versus Everything Is Wrong by Moby; Post by Bjork versus ...I Care Because You Do by Aphex Twin; Landcruising by Carl Craig versus Leftism by Leftfield. It's going to be brutal. See all the original riders and runners here.

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

Snurvive the snowpocalypse with snowtronica

Fat Roland would like to advise listeners of serious disruptions to music due to the severe weather conditions, which are likely to continue tomorrow. Electronica listeners are advised not to listen to or make tunes except for the most essential artists.

These are those essential artists:

- Anything by The Avalanches (via Stuart Durber)

- Anything by the Chemical Brrrs (geddit? via Isaac Ashe)

- Anything by Max Tundra (via Dirty Protest) 

- Biosphere: Polar Sequences (via Dial)

- Digitonal: Snowflake Vectors (via Dan Brearley)

- For delayed journeys, Faithless: Take The Long Way Home or Miss You Less See You More (via A Strangely Isolated Place)

- Herrmann and Kleine: Catch A Snowflake (via Dan Brearley)

- Joy Electric: Walking In A Winter Wonderland (via John Mark Cullen)

- Leftfield: Melt 

- Mike and Rich: Mr Frosty (via LUDD)

- Moby: Snowball (via Ben Edson) 

- Modeselektor: The White Flash (via Daniel Stirling)

- Monolake - Infinite Snow (see forthcoming album review, prob'lee on Saturday)

- The Orb: Little Fluffy Clouds (of snow. Via Stuart Durber)

- Trentemoller. (While The Cold Winter Waiting, I reckon. Via Isaac Ashe.)

- Various: Tribute To Antarctica (via Mrcopyandpaste)

- Wisp: Frozen Days (via Smucker)

Do add your own snow-themed electronica / IDM in the comments below. Or tweet it and tag it #snowtronica. Together, we can get through this if only we listen to the right music.

Monthly mop-up: top class joy, too many leggings and the theme tune to the Equalizer

Here are some scabby flakes of putrid bloggery that I didn't have time to squeeze into my blog in April.

As a proud Mancunian, I like the look of Top Class Manager. Lesley Gilbert, the widow of music manager Rob Gretton, created this book from notebooks, posters, letters, and studio notes, all chronicling the short history of Joy Division. I think it came out some time ago, but I've only just noticed it - here.

Speaking of the holy land, the Manchester International Festival is approaching fast. Uber-techno-mecha-gods Kraftwerk will appear with Steve Reich, while Elbow will strike up with the Hallé Orchestra. I once performed with the Hallé, but that's for another post. Oh and the Same Teens will be doing one of their gigs for, um, teens. I found myself at one of their events once, and everyone, absolutely everyone, was wearing leggings.

Time for a B12 update. (I feel like I am a TV presenter updating you on the longest marathon in the world.) The legendary techno label is issuing lots of lovely old goodness on a series of Archive albums. I last reported them when they released Volume 3. They're now up to Volume six of seven, which spans 1992 to 1994 - read more about the whole lot at Boomkat.

Finally, I've been working on a piece called Bands From The Last Few Years That Sound Like Orbital But Aren't Orbital. I'm struggling. I'm trying to avoid obvious bands from 'back in the day' like Leftfield that Last FM or iTunes would obviously point out. So I've got Mike Paradinas, Boards of Canada, Plaid, maybe Bola, the Crystal Castles track Untrust Us, and the theme tune to the Equalizer. Long Range doesn't count because it's an Orbital spin-off. It's not a good list, is it? I thought this piece would float, but it seems to be drowning. If you can help, throw me a lifeline in the comments.

Wevie Stonder: all the people are fridges; all the food is made of October

For a decade, ridiculous joketronica band Wevie Stonder (photo: Fjords) have been churning out their own parody dance music, featuring (according to the New York Times) "singing and shouting" and "a portly German tuba player in sunglasses and costume antennas."

They are electronica's version of Weird Al Yankovic, except without the yawning realisation that you've heard the joke before.

You'd think they'd be stuck in a rut doing this kind of thing, like Goldie Lookin' Chain. Yet the boys still have one sweaty ear pressed up against music's pregnant underbelly. Their latest album The Bucket churns out dubstep and grime references like some kind of clown-show sausage machine without an off-button.

Hans Peach takes off Leftfield and T-Rex and is the sound of all the guitars and all the synths playing Twister after closing time in all of the UK's instrument shops. Small People (think Lemon Jelly on K) is a Carribean island, palm tree at its centre, spinning in giddy circles like a warped record.

The Amiga beeps beep. The funk bass funks. The 909 snares ensnare. The whole thing pleases. "It's going well Tuesday," spouts the Nathan Barley DJ on Glidstep.

I have no idea what any of The Bucket means. It's like being at a party where the people are fridges and all the food is made of October. Wevie Stonder leave the quirkiness of Lemon Jelly and Avalanches dead in the dodo juice.