Some records announce themselves with a slammed door; this one saunters in through a side entrance, swirling a martini glass that probably contains rocket fuel. "Alien Jazz Girl" wears its homage on its sleeve and its tongue in its cheek with equal confidence — Andrei British borrows the loose-limbed swagger of the Cantina Band, strips out the slapstick, and lets a lounge singer from somewhere considerably further than Tatooine take the mic.

Gravesend has given the world precisely two things of cultural note: a fortress and, as of this week, a bedroom producer who believes he is the spiritual heir to Ralf Hütter. Whether "Electrophobia" earns him that lineage is the question worth asking, and the answer, delivered with the bluntness Kent deserves, is: not quite, but the wiring is interesting enough that you'll forgive the loose plug sockets.