French house artist Quentin Dupieux, known by his almost-not-as-good-as-his-birth-name stage name Mr. Oizo (Wa-zo), has a knack for nauseatingly obnoxious electronic dance tunes—and that’s not an insult. Few things are better than music that assaults the way most music soothes; it’s not for everyone but it’s undoubtedly fun, and when it’s propelled by tinny, scratchy, wooshy, whirly machine-produced blips and blops, well, what else is there? Haydn, Beethoven, the Beatles—you can keep ‘em. I’ll take Major Lazer and Trippple Nippple and Mr. Oizo any day.

Those opening remarks are only about a quarter as tongue-in-cheek as Mr. Oizo’s fourth album Stade 2 (Ed Banger Records) appears to be. In his “Introiel,” a Hawkingsesque android voice intones, regarding the new material, “I don’t know what it is exactly, but I love it.” There is little better preparation for what follows: short, sharp hooks of Atari-like chirps on a groundwork of spare but smartly measured computerized beats, oddly melodic and evocative of many difference styles—‘80s dance and hip-hop on “Stade 2,” and glimmers of funk on “Camelfuck.” Vocals are few and far between and usually the spawn of machinery (with the exception of samples and Irish DJ Annie Mac on “Oral Sax”), and usually repeat trite phrases like “everybody dance now” on “EDN.”

Again, trite should not be taken as an insult; there’s some indecipherable and instinctive element in Mr. Oizo’s style that, without, reduces most other similar attempts at obnoxo-house to floor-clearers and grimace-inducers. Maybe it’s the self-aware, smug air about Oizo’s music. At the point of epiphany, the jarring changes and sharp beats push past insufferable into fun; listener and artist are on the same side, in on the same joke, and that relationship is important in a world where some artists take their music much too seriously.

Of course, that doesn’t knock Mr. Oizo’s talent at the switchboards and sense of melodic arrangement, but with titles like the aforementioned “Camelfuck,” “Oral Sax” (oh hardy har har) and “Douche Beat,” which features the line “beat for the douches” and is, at the same time, one of the best songs on the album, you have to nudge and wink with him as you shake your groove thing. But then again, for example, Frank Zappa was a genuine talent, and he had as many vitriol-spewing detractors as drooling fans. After a certain point, as always, it comes down to taste and whether you want to be in on the joke; true, sometimes music should just be music and not a dissertation on the place of meta-fictional devices in French house music in a post-ironic world. The thing about Oizo is, whether you buy into that or not, the intuitively fun element should hook open minds; try to deny “Ska,” “Camelfuck” or “France7,” I dare you.

There are repetitive moments here—you can set your watch to one or two beats that pop up across the board, and “Chiffon” and “Pompe” are sadly straight-up filler—and at times the lineup feels a bit top-heavy, favoring the beginning of the album, but these are technicalities that shouldn’t detract too much overall. Kinetic, driving and fun, Mr. Oizo has put together a great house collection.

Track List
1. Introeil
2. Camelfuck
3. Douche Beat
4. Datsun
5. SKA
6. EDN
7. Cheeree
8. Oral Sax (Feat. Annie Mac)
9. France7
10. Chiffon
11. Pompe
12. Stade2
13. Druide