Hot on the heels of their "The Ends Against the Middle" EP comes the second full length album from every hip hop futurist's favourite Anti. Not only does it not disappoint, "Arrhythmia" also manages to surprise with several twists on the New York abstract experimentalist's template of analogue mayhem and lyrical filibustering. But surely that is the point - if Anti Pop ever stepped to us with anything predictable or clichéd they would be reneging on their original promise to 'disturb the equilibrium'. 'Expect the unexpected' could also serve as a handy motto here, as Beans, Sayid, Priest and Earl delve Tron-like into the heart of hip hop's electronic unconscious.

They've also signed to Warp records - a label hitherto famed for bringing us the pioneering noodlings of Aphex Twin, Autechre, Plaid, Black Dog and Boards Of Canada. Beans told me last month that he just thought this move 'made sense', and he's right. In the same way, I don't think anyone batted an eyelid when Anti Pop supported Radiohead in Europe last year - it just 'made sense'. Not like aiming for a target audience, or changing your sound to broaden your appeal, or re-recording an album at the behest of your record company (hello N*E*R*D*) 'make sense', but just because strange new juxtapositions (hello Jay-Z and the Roots) have always been part of hip hop, and Anti Pop recognise the importance of this.

Anyone who enjoyed the instrumental sections of the EP will welcome the Doors-meets-Cabaret Voltaire intro, "Contraption", which leads swiftly into the sideways P-Funk of "Bubblz". With this track the listener is hit by the realisation that Anti Pop, despite their name, do have the potential to blow up big, and that their non-conformist stance cannot be put down to not having the necessary equipment - this is accessible stuff. But then to me, CanOx, and Mike Ladd, and Sensational, and "J-Beez With the Remedy" are accessible. I just wish more people agreed with me.

"Ping Pong" features the ballgame of the same name, and presents the Consortium as comic book heroes on a mission - "watch the ball, watch the way I climb around your hall, walking up walls, sideways then I stall, throw the web on y'all". Then as if we couldn't tell they inform us, "It's the return!". By then we're tied up like Dr Octopus and on the way to jail. Foiled again! "Dead In Motion" keeps up the momentum, a 24-carat analogue banger which cries out for a wicked video - not a Hype Williams job but a widescreen Ridley Scott dystopian sci-fi fantasia. In these opening tracks it is possible to detect Beans' love of ntique electronics and pioneers like Suicide and the Normal - the drones and whirrs crackle with raw energy (see also the work of waveform minimalists Pan Sonic) but the hip hop heart still beats strong beneath the forcefield. The sound also reminds me of some recent OutKast (Sayid for one is a big Prince fan, an influence heavily detectable in 'Kast music), "Silver Heat" in particular with it's skiddadly-skatting towards the end.

"Ghostlawns" is a jaw-dropper, a truly exciting track which simultaneously illustrates Anti Pop's accessibility and experimentalism. The relentless forward-motion of this track is typical of the album as a whole. You know when an album begins with a couple of amazing, intense, full-on bangers, and then quickly settles into a samey monotony? That doesn't happen here! You keep waiting for the quality to drop but that filler just never arrives. This is where the group's monicker makes sense - in album terms 'pop' usually means 'a coupla good single tracks then a bunch of anonymous crap you'll never listen to for pleasure'. This is a concept seemingly alien to Beans and co. Or they're alien to that concept (whatever).

"Conspiracy Of Myth" alludes to post-9/11 hysteria in opaque style, which is probably the best way to refer to it, lyrically speaking. "Are you sure what you're fighting for? War with a cinematic score." This track lingers like a whisper from the underground, fading in and out with eerie synths and children's voices. Let us not forget that Anti Pop are poets, and they make that clear throughout the album through both word and sound, their obvious expertise with the former often mirrored by a subtle and intelligent touch when manipulating the latter. They also know when to hammer relentlessly, as with "Human Shield", the final full track. "Place The Face" concludes the album with a defiant chant, and all you want to do is press 'play' again and check that it wasn't all some fevered Ballard-meets-Gibson-meets-Baraka-meets-Rakim dream.