A clear vinyl 10 inch that I didn’t know existed until this week. It looks like it came out last year. The sleeve art is two pieces by Angela Erhard: each has two figures, one in a very natural pose, one in an awkward, unnatural one. Over their heads are superimposed anemone-like flowers, or bags. They look strange, difficult, but beguiling, not part of anything you are familiar with, yet not entirely alien. They fit the music.

Senyawa, have that weird plinky-plonky string thing they have in Japan, and some hard, wooden drumming that I can’t remember the name of. Harsh oriental sounds and sensibilities, but with occidental timing and scales; they’re downright riffing on those plinky-plonky things.

Melt-Banana, my beloved Melt-Banana. I think they’re officially down to two members now, and they’ve been getting more electronic for years. This is the most electronic I’ve heard them, starting off with a massive stomping beat you might have heard on Wall of Sound years ago, but it’s noisy, it’s a mess, it’s simmering on the edge of a chaotic boiling-over. It stumbles, it stalls. It’s coming: you know it’s coming. But it doesn’t. There’s some Japanese plinky-plonky thing, then silence. Wat?

Next track and there’s Agata with his open tuning, doing five chords per second, Yasuko gives it the usual, and we know where we are. God, I love Melt-Banana.

On GPS, with a porno painted sleeve (by Brian Calvin – Google him, he’s good) and modesty card. The card says to “remove with caution in the presence of minors”. We didn’t have any minors around when I wanted to remove it, but fortunately there’s a primary school at the end of our road. Badum, tish.

On the ‘a’, Britta sings a Bob Dylan song with which, as it’s not Subterranean Homesick Blues, I am not familiar. It’s wistfully melancholic, and lovely, with pedal-steel. The ‘aa’ is a duet; lush tremoloed guitars, shitloads of reverb and those two kinda-weird but kinda-lovely voices.