Caught between the darkly weird, window-licking antics of the Aphex Twin and the aural attrition of Autechre, Plone never staked their claim in Warp’s precocious pantheon.

One of the most idiosyncratic acts to be signed to the label, they eschewed its natural predisposition for electronic alienation in favour of surfing through a sunburst of sine waves, twisting their amassed array of analogue arcana into a brightly bouncy, effervescent electronica.

Hatched in the late-1990s, from the same midlands scene that gave us Pram and Broadcast, the boffin trio (Mark Cancellara, Mike Johnston and Billy Bainbridge) drew on a smorgasbord of seventies kitsch soundtracks, BBC radiophonics, 1950s sci-fi flicks, 1960s spaghetti Westerns and lounge music, conspiring to blend them into sweetly nostalgic curios of childhood TV theme music – a feat that put them a galaxy away from most electronic acts of the time.

So there’s wide-eyed naïveté to the fizzing, frothy electro of ‘On the Bus’ and ‘Marbles’ and humour to be had in the cheekily titled, teacher baiting, Kraft-pop of ‘Be Rude to Your School’, whilst ‘Plock’s mellifluous, music-box melody pastorally re-writes Camberwick Green complete with the nursery rhyme vocal lines “Every day, come out to play, come out for me, sit in my tree”.

Even when the music does stray into moodier climes, such as the John Barry-esque espionage territory of ‘Top And Low Rent’ and ‘The Greek Alphabet’ or the autumnal elegy ‘Summer Plays Out’ the keyboards still buzz, burble and whistle whimsically, both delighting and enchanting.

And yet for all its boundless, evocative charm ‘For Beginner Piano’ is that most tragic of albums – a delicate, uniquely affecting debut that also acted as a swansong for its creators.

The band did record a second, sadly unreleased album before dissolving into various other projects and there are strains of Plone’s musical DNA in the Scandanavian Skwee scene as well as the UK’s Ghostbox and Café Kaput labels. But the album remains a one-off.

Unlike the majority of electronica since then, there’s a generous bounty of rare warmth and wonder within these grooves – idyllic remembrances of a half-forgotten childhood. Pull them close.