Aesop Rock and Kimya Dawson's The Uncluded is proof positive that you can be kindred spirits whatever side of the musical tracks you hail from.

Hokey Fright sees two of the most idiosyncratic voices of their generation combine for a collection that is at turns heartfelt, bizarre and whimsical. Aesop and Kimya may have little in common on the surface - even so their debut collection together is rare for never feeling quite as disjointed as it perhaps should be.

The career arcs of the pair began around the same time, roughly the Millennium-spanning glory years of both Alt-Space-Hop label Definitive Jux and the birth of Moldy Peaches, Dawson's project with Adam Green. Both enjoy sizeable reputations in their respective genres as mavericks. Both have had some crossover success in recent years.

And for their debut together, neither artist completely disregards their previous stylings in favour of adopting the middle ground. True, most tracks feel more like Dawson songs than the alternative, though she also makes a gameful attempt to translate some of her phrases into rap, while Aesop's trademark honey and atomic ash drawl is as languidly obscure as ever. The centrepiece 'Bats' and comic short 'Superheroes' (made up entirely of the two singers' favourite sandwich toppings) veer most starkly towards Aesop's oeuvre - but the real standouts all feel like Dawson compositions that have been tailored to fit a little extra neck.

It was undoubtedly a mutual decision. Ace-Rock has never sounded so cheerful in his life. Not since Float has his flow tripped as jauntily over a track as it does on album highlight 'Delicate Cycle'. Where in the past he has often been employed to lace vocals over brutal, funky rhythms (see his collaborations with Tobacco, El-P and Mr Lif), here his super-slick part-nonsense, part rare delivery coruscate moments of street-level common sense. At one point Kimya refers to a character, presumably our Ace, as "the Minnesota Dalai Lama" who "twists his tongue to create a perfect rhyme with every style preconceived to spit that shit out at your mind."

'Organs’'is possibly the first pop song written in support of organ donorship, inciting the animal kingdom to switch body parts (how a whale's tail will fit onto a cat's body is best not thought about). Hip-hop fans won't be supremely digging this, and neither may be staunch Kimya fans, although 'Earthquake' contains some of her most satisfying lyrics, recalling the scenes from Juno that she helped to illustrate. Unfortunately it is also highlights the too-contrasting style of delivery that can make Aesop's stanzas seem a little too pinched when hammered into breezy alt-folk structures. They may be soulmates, but their tones can rub together like the proverbial chalk and cheese.

For every staunch fan of either artist then, rumblings may well emerge along the lines of 'what the hell is this chick / dude with the weird voice doing on his / her album?' The oddness of both artists is what makes the album so ambitious, and at the same time so jarring. It is almost custom-made to tick my boxes - but even I find it a little mystifying, and struggle to think of another person I know who would love this. Whatever the audience, it would make one hell of a live show.