The Walworth Road, a grey strip of bookmakers, fast food restaurants and dilapidated boozers that links Camberwell to Elephant and Castle, does not at first glance look like the sort of place that shelters a raft of secrets. But then, you can never really tell, can you? Just step off the main road, dart beneath that railway bridge and you'll find yourself stood on the doorstep of one of the most intriguing, dedicated, plain inspired young groups in Britain.

They're called Flash Fiktion, and they sound like - well, like what exactly? Twinkling psychedelia, pounding tropical rhythms, deranged glampunk stomps and sunny electro-pop - songs like Capsules Of Sun and Me And Mr E are broiling, multi-headed studio chimera that melt together totally diverse sounds and influences. Think past pop fusioneers like Late Of The Pier or Yeasayer. But also think songs that hold together without losing their form - not freaks of nature destined to wither and die outside the studio, but genetically engineered hybrids that scurry down your ear canals and make play around your synapses.

The band are Matt (vocals, guitar, keyboard, samplers), Ollie (vocals, guitar) and Dan (drums) - and the fact they've chosen to settle here, cooped up far from the bustling districts of London hipsterdom, says a lot about their collective ambition. "There's hundreds of really good bands out there but not many who want to make an impact on the mainstream," complains Matt. "Everyone's playing to their peers, and that's not going to change the big picture." So Flash Fiktion have their eye on the mainstream? "Yeah, but the mainstream right now is very corporate," he shoots back. "We're out to destroy what's going on in the mainstream. Music shouldn't have to be diluted to be popular".

If this sounds like the talk of dreamers, well, you're not altogether wrong. As Flash Fiktion toiled over their weird, wonderful songs, suddenly strange tales and glimpses of narrative flickered into life - fair(l)y stories that felt grounded in reality, but also somewhere else. "We're big fans of odd, plot-heavy films and we wanted the lyrics to have that sort of feel," adds Matt. "Realistic, but sort of unreal at the same time. Most people when they write stories in songs, it's all about real life - but we want to take you away from reality."

Flash Fiktion is a name that refers to a specific kind of short-form fiction that gelled neatly with the band's own approach to lyrics. "Flash fiction refers to a story written so it can be fitted on one sheet of paper, or on the back of a postcard," says Ollie. "It's not like a novel, drawn-out, something that thickens and develops. It's a narrative with a quick impact - an idea that you can communicate in a three minute song."

Maybe it's just being cooped up here in a room in south London, but Flash Fiktion spend a lot of time thinking about what separates them from the outside. "We do feel off on our own - both geographically and artistically," ponders Ollie. "We feel like separatists!" laughs Matt. In this case, though, isolation has bred inspiration. Stay tuned: this is a story that's only just beginning.

It's almost two years since Matt and Ollie started toiling in this studio, working daily on songs that are only now about to see the light of day. In this time, other musicians came and went but the sneaking feeling persisted that something, or someone, was missing. Cue a serendipitous meeting with Dan, a drummer new to London from Croatia, that closed the triangle. The three first met in the studio's kitchen, where they bonded over a love of cinema - satirical news flick Network, David Cronenburg's Videodrome, the work of the Coen Brothers. Then, when Matt and Ollie parted ways with their last drummer, Dan took to the stool - and stayed put.

Schooled in Latin and Afro-Cuban percussion, it's Dan's limber, fluid drumming that's a big part of why Flash Fiktion sound like s