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.

Mr Scruff's dried rabbits, LD's deep woofs and Mujava's drained drums

Here are some tracks that ought to be caressing your pretty ears right now.

Potato-drawing tea evangelist Mr Scruff (pictured) has teamed up with preacher's son Roots Manuva for a track called Nice Up The Junction. It's a solid piece of dub skank with some meaty "wooh" action, and the video features a jumble sale flogging used tea bags and "dried rabbits".

Dubstep label Hyperdub lit a really slow fuse when they let LD loose on new 12" Traumatic Times.  With its deeply woofing bass, the title track is so low-down, it's doing the limbo underneath your carpet. Flip side Woodblock is a slap round the chops in comparison, and is worth hunting out for its simmering, insistent, rolling techno.

And while I'm a techno tip, if you come across Boy 8 Bit's remix of Mujava's Township Funk, it's worth stopping to say hello. I should point out that Township Funk is minimal house music's version of Rihanna's Umbrella: it's simply massive. Boy 8 Bit magnifies the moodiness. eliminates the tribal drums, and uses menacing synth lines to drain any possible happiness from the track until the glass is indeed half empty. Stupendously, stunningly stern.

Leila's telly-trembling tribute to sub-bass

Because I'm holed up in a studio most nights, the one thing I can't do at the moment is Go Out. Capital G, capital O.

Footage like this, taken from Leila's performance from a Spanish festival last year, makes me green with envy. So green and so angry, in fact, that I'm tearing my shirt apart as I write this. And believe me, I don't have Lou Ferrigno's muscles.

I want to go to a club night. I want to twiddle some knobs and make a roomful of heads nod. But I can't because I'm having immense fun in a radio studio that's no bigger than your left bra cup.

Anyhooze, it's a sweet little performance on this here video: the camera shake after the minute mark is as good a visual tribute to sub-bass as you'll ever get.

Audio lampposts: Luke Vibert straightens up his Rhythm

A four-day break in blogging? Pah. I may as well throw my computer into the sea.

I've been rather busy, though, with an unusual project for an electronic music writer. For the past 48 hours, I have been dipping a tentative toe into the whale-infested waters of Christian radio.

We play some cool (and some not-so-cool) music by Christians, from the likes of Sufjan Stevens, Demon Hunter and Richard Swift, and sometimes we smash things up with a hammer in the name of God. You can follow my exploits on the Theatre Of Noise website, where you will also find a link to the programme's Twitter page.

While you wait for normal service to resume, why not amuse yourself with an old favourite of mine. As I said in this post last week, acid funboy Luke Vibert (pictured with Jean Jacques Perry and a Moog) has tidied up his beats somewhat for the hip hop sounds of Rhythm.

Rhythm brings together a handful of EPs released on Japanese label Sound Of Speed. It's the sight of an electronic genuis very much not throwing the rattle out of his pram. The beats are straight and orderly. Like rhythmic lampposts.

"Is this important?" declares a very serious sounding robot on Sparky Is A Retard. No, not really. It won't go down as Vibert's best album: file this album next to those MoWax-type breaks compilations you used to collect when you were learning to scratch.

Or indeed, file it next to your favourite Wagon Christ discs... which might well go down on Christian radio, now I come to think of it.

Trying my best to live a funky sound: I don't wanna put nobody down

The 45rpm record was 60 years old last week. See if you can guess which of these cute triplets was my first ever 7" single purchase:

(a) S'Express (pictured) - Hey Music Lover

(b) Madonna - Like A Prayer

(c) Bananarama and La Na Nee Nee Noo Noo -Help!

I can hear your reasoning. "Fats is the coolest guy on the interwebs but a little on the wrong side of wrong, so it seems logical that he would buy the S'Express hit that nobody remembers. But he's as gay as a lampshade, so the Madonna thing makes sense. Then again, he hates the Beatles, so the Help! travesty seems like a logical choice."

I'm sure if you nip down to Sifter's Records, Mr Sifter will recall that happy day 20 years ago when, yes, I bought all three. Don't tell anyone, please.

Here's a little video in which a Generic Factory Man shows us how 7" singles are made. Basically, they're big floppy CDs wrapped in cling film which are then banged with a hammer by a man with a microscope.

2paW0r: The Warp Records anagram challenge

Here are 20 releases on Warp Records, all shaken up in a moment of anagram frenzy.

None of them are too obscure, although I reckon a lot of it is difficult (like the music!) and you pretty much need to be "into" your Warp to get them.

They include singles and albums by a variety of artists including Aphex Twin, Squarepusher, Boards Of Canada and more. The numbers in brackets after each anagram indicate the number of words in the answer. Any punctuation you see isn't part of the anagram.

This is in celebration of pants-burstingly exciting Warp20 vote, some details of which can be found on the sidebar of this here website.

For example, for:
- No boring rape? Fine! (3)
the answer would be 'For Beginner Piano', the album by Plone (pictured).

Happy anagramming, and remember, it includes singles too. Pop your guesses in the comments (which should open in a separate window) and I'll 'fess up the answers in a few days. (Edit: Answers here.)

1 - Not tiresome seduction (5)

2 - Hurray! Knobbed! (2)

3 - A bawdy convoy (2)

4 - Enchant a dull head (2)

5 - Shams (1)

6 - Non-established chalk (5)

7 - Sells an ego (2)

8 - If sequencer (1)

9 - Damndest, elite nightshade! (5)

10 - The gormless kid (2)

11 - Is cocky dirt (2)

12 - No (1)

13 - Shock OK bet (1)

14 - Charmed tory (4)

15 - Flaky old ponce (2)

16 - Hence examined chews huge, inclement nail (5)

17 - Wiser, roughened toxin (3)

18 - Daring grunt, no? (2)

19 - As critique (1)

20 - OK ancient warmth (4)

(Answers here.)

Pssst - wanna buy a Macbook laptop?

Russian beat scientist DJ Vadim is selling his Macbook laptop.

The Ninja Tune star, who has worked with Stevie Wonder, Kraftwerk and the gorgeous Super Furry Animals, swears it's a "once in a lifetime offer".

Here's the spec for those of you who understand this sort of thing:

- it's 13 inches and black;
- it has a 2.4 ghz Intel core 2 duo.That makes no sense - I reckon he made that bit up.
- 2gb ram and a 250gb hard drive. Now I know what they are.
- osx 10.5.6. I think he's just hitting his keyboard with his radio alarm clock.

He's left a few thousand tunes on there, so hop to it and make him an offer.

Oh and I didn't realise, but Vadim got cancer last year. He lost his sight in one eye, but he's fit again and is set to drop new album U Can't Lurn Imaginashun in May. He leads off with cheery single Hidden Treasure in two weeks time (watch that on YouTube).

The best album of 2009 is Dan Deacon's Bromst. Here's why...

Edit, December 2009: The best album of 2009 is not Bromst. Yeah, I know, I'm contradicting myself, but hey, this here post was from April! Here is my full and final run-down of the best albums of 2009. And now back to the post you clicked on in the first place...

Welcome to the best album of 2009.

It's tempting to label Dan Deacon's Bromst as a coming-of-age masterpiece, using my best Wonder Years voice. But it's only his second UK album proper; he's barely in long trousers yet (see picture!).

I know it's only the beginning of April, but this is the best long player of the year. Here's why:

Bromst opens with Build Voice, which does what it says on the tin, and gives you the same swirling tingle you got in your loins at the start of Animal Collective's Merriweather Post Pavilion. I expected some toytown trickery and silliness, but this opener is reserved, considered, and, dare my pouting mouth whisper it, mature. Its melodic choir and hopscotch piano makes way for an extended fart: we're into the start of Red F and an energetic, almost frenetic speed pop track that loses none of the melody.

Are those chipmunks hidden in the chorus of Paddling Ghost? The playfulness is still here, raising a cub scout salute and making a goofy face, but like the wonderfully titled and beautifully epic Surprise Stefani, all the Timmy Mallett-ness is integrated into the songwriting.

So Deacon throws us wailing spirituals (Wet Wings), stuttering dog samples (Woof Woof), plus even more chipmunks only a lot, lot faster (Baltihorse), and we catch every single one of them because it all makes glorious sense.

If Flying Lotus hadn't already done it, Bromst has made me fall in love with electronica all over again. By the time we're at the xylophones and modem tones of closing Get Older, which in Max Tundra's hands would be endearingly comical, our heads are bursting with rhythm and colour and cacophonous bliss.

This is the sound of a musical genius having the absolute best time of his life. The streaming link I mentioned in this post a couple of weeks ago is no longer online, so try here instead.