Pluxus’ analogue synthetics are too edgy to be described as merely electronic pop music, but I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you this was catchy as hell. Where Kraftwerk hid behind a cold ironic pose, Pluxus removes the distance intrinsic to electronic music and playfully acknowledges its musical ancestry, integrating everything from polka to traditional choral music. Pluxus carefully avoids sounding like the droves of bands trying to cash in on the early eighties electro-pop revival with its combination of experimentation and improvisation.

This mini-album blows by in no time with each track (minus the opener) clocking in well under three minutes. The dark tone of “Caravelle” is misleading. Its repetitive, danceable beat pulses underneath myriad bleeps and melodies and sounds at once familiar and mysterious. The rest of the record, however, avoids such pseudo-seriousness in favor of kitschy vocoders and busy syncopation. “Pluxor” sounds like a circus sideshow soundtrack but strangely incorporates a male chorus. The band can’t resist the dancefloor feel of “Magnetiska Falt.” The music spurts and oozes in your ears like trapped droplets of water dancing to their own melodies.

Pluxus saturates each song with random noises and diverting melodies, making it all sound so simple. Never do you feel like you’re listening to the jumbled mess so many other instrumental electronic bands create in the name of ‘experimentation.’ Pluxus obviously grew up ingesting lots of Atari games and cartoon soundtracks, but somehow the band manages to make it all sound fresh and unique. It’s hard to cultivate new sounds in this genre, especially when you’re using vintage equipment, but Pluxus scoffs at such limitations and blasts all your doubts and expectations away.

“Adjoss” just might be the catchiest instrumental I’ve heard all year. The band makes its robotic rhythms sound so human- it’s very bizarre. It’s impossible not to get sucked into Pluxus’ dreamy soundscapes and quirky sense of humor. How does an instrumental band convey a sense of humor? With a tight mix of primitive electronics, mismatched musical styles, and random collages. I’ve had this album on ‘repeat’ the whole time I’ve been writing this review, and I don’t plan on stopping it when I’m done. Pluxus = ear candy.