Tusk Wax – and its subsidiaries Horn Wax and Porn Wax – are the type of label that refuse categorisation or scene allegiance with some vehemence. If we were pressed to explain the kind of world they operate in, we'd put their generally slowed-right-down, druggy, chuggy sound somewhere in the same quadrant as Andy Blake and Joe Hart's parties and Andrew Weatherall and friends' A Love From Outer Space operation.

This is the world of grizzled old ravers who will not go gentle into that good night, who have years of rich musical experience that they still want to remain immersed in – and who are old enough to see through bullshit and hype and get straight to the heart of the matter. That's why, over half a decade, the mysterious ruralist Mr Tusk and the motley band of creators he has pulled together to release his labels have built a catalogue to be very proud of indeed, presented without faff, ceremony or fancy packaging beyond a bit of coloured vinyl here or gold ink there, yet still consistently selling its 12”s to people who matter.

Tusk/Horn/Porn are never going to be the hype new thing, and that's precisely the point. This is an imprint that can have willies scrawled all over everything if Mr Tusk feels like it – and he does – without it affecting the deep seriousness and briliance of the music. So here, as ever without ceremony, without track titles, and without anything that doesn't need to be there, is the music that Tusk/Horn/Porn are going to be putting out in the next few months, and as ever, it's killer material from start to end.