Reformed indie kid Hifi Sean becomes a master of the dancefloor on his debut album

Dickson was the lead singer with The Soup Dragons, and subsequently The Hi Fidelity, and the former's tracks "I’m Free" and "Mother Universe" are ingrained into the psyche of many people who were teenagers in the early 90s. True, the first was a cover of an old 'Stones tune, but we didn’t care about that when shaking our air maracas and trying to avoid getting the back of our 28-inch flares drenched in snakebite.

The first thing to note on his debut album is that not only does Dickson blatantly have a shit hot record collection, but he also owns an impressive list of contacts to go with his canny ear for a hook. Ft. is naturally an album of collaborations, yet we’re not talking the usual likes of diminutive RnB pop creep Pitbull here - this is something way more appealing.

The most commercial tunes here contain vocalists familiar from stone cold dance classics gone by; "Lost Without You" features the gospel-tinged singing of Inner City vocalist Paris Grey (the synth stabs are pure Detroit, so working with Grey is a natural match), the slinky house of "Heavy Game’ provides a welcome return for the legendary Billie Ray Martin, while the piano-led "Testify" features Crystal Waters, former "Gypsy Woman".

These tracks of pure joy are curveballs, though. Delve further into Ft. and it soon becomes apparent that this is an album of depth. It may be born from the thud of nightclubs, but it’s in no way just a bunch of house tracks - there are moments of inherent sadness here, a strain of melancholy which makes it much more substantial than your average electronic album.

The breakbeats, spooked-out psychedelic atmospherics and lullaby-esque qualities of "18th" are perfectly matched by the gorgeous vocal harmonising of Norman Blake, and it's both a masterstroke and delight to hear him free from the confines of his band Teenage Fanclub.

“In Love With Life”, a spoken word piece featuring Yoko Ono, has Dickson showing such an icon the respect she deserves with a slower paced electro backing drenched with soaring violins, over which Ono muses about the state of the world in the modern age (“It saddens me because I am really in love with life, and with people, they’re beautiful”). It’s a staggering and emotive piece of work.

Equally as respectful is closing track "A Kiss Before Dying", an expansive, ten minute piece of tribalism which features the recently departed Alan Vega of Suicide. A slow build piece which breaks down into synths, woodwind instruments, choral choirs and the oblique Vega drawl that we've loved for so many years, it's a touching, beautiful tribute to a great man.

Elsewhere, "Truck" features the familiar yelp of Fred Schneider from The B-52's, but placed in a musical environment you've never heard him before. The insistent house keys and fierce bass wobble is designed for heads down arm jacking, this being a big room track that high kicks itself from the speaker, Schneider adding a sprinkle of camp salaciousness to affairs.

The highlight here is the collaboration with David McAlmont, a criminally underrated British soul singer (see also Omar), whose dramatic turn at the centre of this album is a bubbling piece of space disco magic. A real glitter laden, dancing with tears in your eyes moment which evokes memories of groundbreaking electronic music of the past (Cerrone’s "Supernature", Cowley’s work with Sylvester, Giorgio with Donna, even Frankie with Jamie), it's a perfect match, a really tantalising partnership, and a whole album of this stuff would surely result in a modern day disco classic.

Ft.’s jukebox/best of approach results in genre hopping, but Sean is disciplined enough for it to be cohesive despite all that. It’s upfront, but also introspective, brilliantly produced and expertly constructed. It's basically everything you could want from an electronic album in 2016.