There's no way Randy Jones gets enough sleep. Under the name Caro, he DJs, creates tracks, and sings like Prince's sexier, whiter cousin. Under his own name, he writes code, co-created the visual environment for the audio processing program Max/MSP (Jitter), built the patch that Radiohead used for their live visuals on their last tour, and (with Konstantin Gabbro) runs Orac Records ( Bolstered by German techno company Kompakt's distro might and the acclaim garnered by Bruno Pronsato's Silver Cities, Orac's profile has risen dramatically over the last year.

Widely read Wire journalist/blogger Philip Sherburne predicts Orac will be one of the most important labels of 2005. Is Jones up for this responsibility?

"I think that 2005 is going to be a bang-up year, kind of like 1989," Jones says, "and a lot of people are going to deserve a piece of it. For Seattle [especially] it's going to be amazing, though. We're happy to help."

The answer reflects Jones' humility and propensity to think macrocosmically rather than egocentrically, though he has the skills to get away with the latter. That talent is abundantly evident on Caro's new 12-inch EP, My Little Pony (out January 24), and on his forthcoming full-length (out this spring). Renowned DJs like Michael Mayer and Matthew Dear dig the title track's lewdly funky electro-tech gallop and hung-like-a-stallion vocals.

"Those guys all grew up on Chicago house," says Jones, "so I think they are feeling where the track comes from and the desire to move that sound into the future." Inventive remixes by Bruno Pronsato, Ben Nevile, and Beckett & Taylor (of England's Hand on the Plow Records) further reroute "Pony" down intriguing, surprising paths where odd tail-shaking ensues. "I thought that [Beckett & Taylor's] weird homemade house would go well with my weird homemade house," Jones says. "I like the result a lot and hopefully we'll do something together again."

What's Jones gonna do if "Pony" becomes a smash hit? "'Smash hit' in our world is like 5,000 copies, so maybe I'll take my lady to the Wedgwood Broiler for some prime rib," Jones quips.

Jones' ability to forge both cerebral, abstract electronic music and hedonistic dance bombs--and then design astounding graphics to accompany them--lifts him above most of Seattle's laptop-lugging hordes. This son of a Madison, Wisconsin computer programmer and a belly-dance teacher credits Seattle for much of his own growth.

"Undoubtedly the people I've met around here have affected how I look at music," he says. "I think the extent to which Seattle was a backwater [town] until recently created a culture here of just doing one's music for the love of it and not focusing on 'blowing up.' There's a deep… system of undergrounds here with a lot of cross-genre connections going on. This definitely made it possible for Konstantin and I to start Orac, and for sure the music we like comes out of all these cross-fertilizations." DAVE SEGAL