PLEASUREWOOD — ELECTRIC TELEPATHY

Anyone remember Khruangbin? Whatever happened to them, eh? Maybe they got reeeeeally fucking high, listened to this record and decided to pack it in. Electric Telepathy is lazy, hazy, delay-drenched funk that might have been made in about 1972. There are no vocals to speak of. Instead, what we have here is vibes. Feeling. Meandering… everything, really.

More specifically, the vibes are identical to those that might be experienced immediately after the hurried ingestion of a jazz cigarette, possibly at three in the morning, possibly at a bus stop in the rain, giving your trip home from your mates' house a level of unforeseen, technicolour complexity that actually makes it by turns hilarious and terrifying. We wouldn't know about such things, of course.

A mixture of samples, found sounds and real, live actual musicians, this is fun, swaggering stuff. Clyde Stubblefield, Portishead and Sun Ra would approve, if only they could get off the sofa under their own steam.

This week's vegetable-based score: seven Camberwell carrots.