Their roster however had started to feel a little narrow in scope. With some of the big names of the Artificial Intelligence period still in situ - most notably Autechre, Plaid and the Aphex Twin - the label was open to accusations of playing to it's audience, despite a plainly adventurous A&R approach which had augmented their caste personnel over the years with the likes of the more avant garde Jimi Tenor, Squarepusher and Broadcast.

Again, the need for reinvention beckoned. Whilst the core electronic acts remained, Warp itself began artistically diversifying once more, de-merging from its Lex subsidiary and signing amongst others British indie poppers Maximo Park, punk funkers (!!!) and psych-folk quartet Grizzly Bear. Inevitably, some of the old guard acolytes were disenfranchised; more than a few have moved on. It's a sense of somehow betrayal which Beckett fails to comprehend. Speaking to Rob Young for his Labels Unlimited book, he defended the label's recruitment policy robustly by confounding the refuseniks, stating: "There is no "Warp Sound," there is no "Warp." It's just a concept, like the equator."

So it's something of a disappointment that the label coming close to its 20th year - an anniversary the similarly anointed Sub-Pop is already celebrating - is losing friends over the likes of the underwhelming Born Ruffians. Indie can still produce moments of great clarity - Vampire Weekend and MGMT currently being in the driving seat - but their style and impetus is lacking from Red, Yellow and Blue. Singer Luke Lalonde in particular suffers from a weakness and genericism in the material, although at least Hummingbird escapes the mundanity. But perhaps all this is merely a floorshow, because surely this is music in the context of a higher purpose; it's really intended to reinforce the profoundly held belief at Warp that the music of the future now belongs firmly in the past.

Red Yellow and Blue is out now on Warp Records.