I’ve always had a deep mistrust of electricity. Any explanation I’ve heard just makes no sense. You can explain all you want about electrons and charges and poles, but all I hear is witchcraft witchcraft witchcraft. And it scares me, frankly. I’m so convinced that I’m going to meet my end by mowing over the cable while I cut the grass that I won’t go near the thing unless someone volunteers to act as cable guard for me, holding the cable up at head height and shouting “mind the cable” every five seconds in case I momentarily forget about the bright orange cord that they are swinging about my ears. And as for electricity’s chum magnetism, well I’m just not having it – I’m more inclined to believe that the bits of metal are alive than to believe that there is some invisible “force” (just like in Star Wars, eh, you expect me to believe that too?) bringing the two things together.

I am having this though, the new compilation from the good sorts over at the ever-attractive Highpoint Lowlife. Magnetism, That Electricity features a selection of tracks from a diverse four strong relay team drawn from their roster, in the form of a double 12” with each getting a side to do with what they will. The Mandelbrot Set burst from the blocks with some satisfyingly widescreen orchestral post-rock, with their four part “Astronomy and Applied Sciences” building expertly from nagging throbbing drone through to a finale which nods to the greats of Constellation Records. This hands off to the following foursome from Fisk Industries, from whose electronic grains bloom meaty and moody hip-hop. The Village Orchestra explode round the bend, taking advantage of their allotted twenty minutes by layering some irresistibly tricksy Gottsching-like rhythms over a windblown landscape to create the “King Of All Tears”. This leaves the Marcia Blaine School for Girls to take a storming drug-assisted anchor leg, which includes the electro-pop noir of “Pinar” and the squidgy mathematics of “Ratio”.

Despite the diversity, Magnetism, That Electricity is surprisingly cohesive. It is held together by a distinctive and dark, cinematic thread; but also most likely by at least a couple of forces I clearly don’t believe in. If you are feeling strangely drawn over to Highpoint Lowlife for a copy, don’t fight it. There are some free remixes of the Fisk Industries tracks up there too (including the crunchy, metallic-tasting synth version by Brassica).