You wouldn't believe the amount of times that a press release lands at Flashlight proclaiming the artist in question to be an eclectic, unclassifiable mix of styles and genres, only for us to find that said band actually sounds like Ocean Colour Scene's less adventurous siblings. We're talking, like, three or four times. So it was with a degree of trepidation that we read the following line in the press release for Ambivalence Avenue:

"Anyone listening to 'Ambivalence Avenue' will be immediately struck by the unusual array of music. Neither electronic nor rock, this album can not actually be classified."

We needn't have worried. Bibio's fourth LP is his first for Warp. Warp, having brought such mentalists as Aphex Twin and Boards of Canada to the public consciousness over the years, don't fuck about. It's refreshing to know that after 20 years in the game they are still able to unearth such a refreshingly contrary and idiosyncratic talent. Ambivalence Avenue, to put it simply, is superb. It is also, in fairness, pretty unclassifiable, which makes my job an utter bitch. Bibio, real name Stephen Wilkinson, merrily flits between sumptuous folk melodies, intricately programmed and occasionally boom bap beats, and twisted disco. It's a reviewer's nightmare.

The title track showcases Bibio's gift for childlike (but never childish) melody. A simple acoustic guitar riff and accessible chorus recalls, bizarrely, The Mamas and the Papas. It's not the last time that Ambivalence Avenue delves into folk whimsy, with the solitary, utterly addictive vocal melody of the glorious 'Haikuesque (When She Laughs)' serving notice that Wilkinson is capable of delivering finely crafted pop songs.

This being a Warp signing though, an LP of guitar based innocence was never really on the cards. So instead the listener is treated to an ever changing mix of styles. The instrumental groove of 'Fire Ant' could have come straight from J Dilla's Donuts. 'Sugarette' is probably the most Warp sounding moment, its squelchy analogue bass and ethereal melody sounding like the last twenty years condensed into one bite sized four minute chunk. 'Lover's Carvings' is so cleverly constructed that you barely notice the myriad tempo changes that see an acoustic lament become a cowbell-tastic, uptempo piece of melodic quirkiness. Hell, on 'Dwrcan' he even dwells into grimey R 'n' B. As with every other genre here, Bibio absolutely nails it. A deceptively sophisticated album that belies the childlike simplicity contained within its melodies; Ambivalence Avenue showcases a truly great talent. I'd normally try and close with a clever summing up of the previous 350 words, but the press release was right…it's pretty unclassifiable. What I do know is that if you like good music, you really want to be hearing this.