Out of Jan 'Mouse On Mars' St Werner, Brian Eno and Merzbow, who do you think would do the fandango?

Before I get my hands filthy with three recent albums, I ought to warn you that I've been obsessed with horses for the past few weeks.  Not Equus-obsessed, but just finding-them-amusing obsessed.  So at some point during this blog post, I will exclaim "Horse!" when you least expect it.  Be ready.

Jan St Werner, of Mouse On Mars and Von Sudenfed fame, has again branched out into his solo guise Lithops.  By all means, look up Lithops' new album Ye Viols, but please don't expect a Mouse-type jaunt.

When it's upbeat, it's like trampolining on barbed wire; when it's downbeat, it's like having your head rolled in setting fibre glass.  I can only assume that while making Mouse On Mars tracks, St Werner tidies out all the mistakes and broken ideas by turning his studio upside-down, shaking it, and letting all the snippets and imperfections pour into Lithops.

Ye Viols is a must only for die-hard Autechre fans and appreciators of sparkling, pristine production.  If you're not fussed about either of these, stick to Mouse On Mars.

Album number two.  Brian Eno collaborated with Moebius and Roedelius, who are jointly known as Cluster (photo: Mark Pilkington).  They brought us an album called After The Heat, an LP rich with rural etherealtronica, Vangelis-inspired soundtrackism and cute popsurreality.

After I've finished making up words, consider that this album is over 30 years old. Its re-release sits neatly in our Twitterfied world of dubstep and glitch, like a cool grandpops who knows how to get out of his threadbare chair and get down with the kids.

The best track on After The Heat is The Belldog.  It has a synthy bass which circles and circles, building a huge sense of foreboding, and also because of its 70s analogueness, makes the whole track sound like the Airwolf pilots getting stoned.

Which brings me, finally, to another old master.  Merzbow has released the first volume of his 13 Japanese Birds series, as written about so eloquently here on my site.

If you can stomach 20 minute tracks of frenetic precision drumming and bustling distortion, then you're a greater person than me. I'm just thrilled he called one track Fandangos In Space.  I want to have a fandango in space.  Can someone arrange that, please?

Did you see my horse-shout?  It's in the first paragraph of this post.  I told you it'd be when you least expect it.  I'm clever, me.

Mark E gets it on with Mouse On Mars while Amon Tobin gets it on with a spoon and pans of varying sizes

If you slashed me in half, maybe with a machete or a surprisingly sharp no-entry sign, you would realise the word MANCHESTER is written through me like BLACKPOOL through rock.

So when guitar electronistas Mouse On Mars (pictured) teamed up with the legendary Manc combo The Fall to form a whole new group called Von Sudenfed, I was bound to froth at the mouth whether or not it was any good.

Thankfully, it is any good.

Their debut album Tromatic Reflexxions is a clattering, shattering mess of bleeps and beats and Mark E Smith yelps. The LCD Soundsystem-style bedding is not as experimental as other Mars material; it is immediate and urgent and fits so well with Smith's distorted ramblings.

All counted, The Fall have released over 90 albums. Von Sudenfed's album stands as a highlight in that swaggering legacy. If you like The Fall, buy it.

Less successful is Telefon Tel Aviv's Remixes Compiled.

This is a tottering pile of production work stretching back to the days when they were in short underpants. It includes a Nine Inch Nails remix, but only because Aviv were bumming studio space from Trent Reznor. It's an adequate compilation, but it won't last more than a handful of plays on your bright green Tomy CD player. (What do you mean you haven't got one?)

Thirdly, Foley Room is Amon Tobin experimenting with 'found sound'. In other words, he has been capturing noises with the magic of microphones rather than ripping from other records.

The result is a collection of sporadic sheep bleats and cutlery clinks that goes on for two hours.

I am, of course, lying. It's the usual blunted cinematic denseness from Tobin, keeping your head in the reefer clouds and your feet in rock and roll hell. Bar a few extra oddities (lions!), there's nothing new here, But that's the point; he's not allowed to change because he's good.

'Though it does include kitchen utensils, so I was almost right.