Sleaford Mods, “UK GRIM.”

As an adolescent, I devoured Sue Townsend’s “The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4.” Though I was occasionally mystified by the Britishisms, wondering about pounds and quid, fortnights, pensioners and the dole, I was for the most part utterly charmed by the pastorale depiction of English puberty. Later in life my notions of the Atlantic Archipelago were complicated by some of England’s more inscrutable cultural exports: The Fall, those rude boys’ rants on deep ska cuts, Meghan and Harry, bangers and mash. Sleaford Mods, a musical duo from Nottingham comprised of Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn, deliver the ultimate in English enigmas, sounding like the dialog from “Fawlty Towers” set to a minimalist hip-hop soundtrack.

UK Grim, the duo’s 12th studio release since 2007, throbs with Mark-E.-Smith-style vocal blathering over semi-ominous hip-hop beats. To these American ears, the vibe is wildly disjunctive: somehow simultaneously crass and cultured, sort of like the Sex Pistols.

Lyrically, the album is dark, caustic, and surreal; beat poetry on Thomas the Tank Engine’s Island of Sodor.

On the title track, Williamson updates Lennon’s highbrow free association ranting: “Threesomes and wealth measles/ Penetrate the cornflakes/ I want it all like a crack forest gateau/ I do drugs in my head so I can still go to bed/ As I pound the slabs of this dreamscape into X.”

During the chorus, a tortured guitar plucks out a simple melody doubled on the vocals as Williamson intones, “This is UK Grim/ Keep that desk area tidy/ Put it in the bin.”

Musically, UK Grim is stark and minimal: simple drum machine breaks and blasting bass. There are no key changes or elaborate arrangements. As a result, everything on the album feels like making do with what you have on hand. There is an unvarnished immediacy on every song that’s often lost to the endless options available to musicians in the studio. Unfortunately, this DIY intensity was even more pronounced on the duo’s earlier albums.

“Force 10 From Navarone” features vocals from Florence Shaw of British band Dry Cleaning.

“Jason, why does the darkness elope?/ Cross sectioned/ It’s not a drink and I don’t fucking smoke,” Shaw and Williamson sing together as the song sputters and pops with spastic low frequency energy.

“So Trendy” features Jane’s Addiction singer Perry Farrell and guitarist Dave Navarro, who add a funky guitar and some weird verses to the song’s synthesized flatulence. “D.I.Why” sounds like a drum machine being put through its paces while Williamson delivers surreal lines like, “Excuse me, mate/ You just dropped one of your tattoos/ Yeah, just over there.”

“Tilldipper” delivers some punk energy with a double-time stomp as Williamson discusses the finer points of armed robbery. “Put ya fingers in the till/ You don’t care you’re in the kill/ Drag the fucking money out/ Spend it on some gear you twat,” he sings. If you need a sonic reference point, think M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” but with the interesting bits replaced by testosterone-infused malevolence.

In some ways, Sleaford Mods are the embodiment of much of the 21st century: the ubiquity of digital tools paired with an increasingly angry narrative about how useless these technologies are at giving your life any real meaning; a musical catharsis set to the sounds of our own aggravation. UK Grim is exactly that.

Follow writer David Gill at Twitter.com/saxum_paternus.