True Sneaker Social die-hard Etch returns with a monumental new album. Scream of the Butterfly shows the depth and breadth of one of the illest producers operating across the many spheres of club music with a distinct “you ‘kay?” slant.

From the moment the low-end pressure and loaded samples rear their heads on the opening track, Zak Brashill demonstrates his intent to sculpt Scream Of The Butterfly as a proper album — an end-to-end listening experience full of peaks and troughs which focus on sonic storytelling much more than club functionality. Throughout his imperious output to date, the man like Etch has displayed an affinity for sound design to match his instinct for what bangs on the spectrum of dubstep, garage, jungle and hip-hop, but now he’s gone postal on soundworld-building, with a grip of heavyweights drafted in to help set the scene.

Fellow Sneaker alumnus J-Shadow lends his maverick footwork science to ‘Star Fallen’, while UK rap anti-royalty Lee Scott brings his unmistakable Runcorn drawl to dusky head-nodder ‘Not Surprised’. UK bass-synth-ambient enigma E.M.M.A drops in for the moody, meandering midpoint ‘Stepford Lives’, and Killa P and Emz deliver blazing bars to the double dose of ‘Prayer Wheel (Left You Fi Dead)’ and ‘Heat Map’ respectively.

Elsewhere Brashill follows his own razor-sharp instincts into warping stop-start drum science, widescreen downtempo with teeth, seasick synth studies, moody-but-cosy 140 and lots more besides. Nothing comes as standard, but Scream of the Butterfly is ruff when it wants to be, subtle and spacious if the vibe demands it, and consistently packed full of the detail and intrigue that we’ve come to expect from one of the most inventive and reliably sick producers in the contemporary bassweight firmament. More

The dark lord of the dance returns to Sneaker with the 'No Favours' EP, another ominous set of non-conformist shellers rough-cut from obsidian and set in steel.

We first broadcast our love of Christoph de Babalon's distinctively destructive, hard-boiled hardcore via the Evident Ware compilation back in 2020, but a longer release has been an ambition of ours ever since. From his early years on Digital Hardcore through his prolific return in the 2010s across a broad tapestry of underground operators, de Babalon has left a fascinating trail of albums, EPs and scattershot tracks behind him that feed into the cult fervour around his music.

As this EP demonstrates in reliably gritty fashion, the magic in the German producer's music lies in his ability to take the tropes of jungle and hardcore and subvert them through signal chains which owe more to noise and industrial than dance music. The structure of his tracks is equally maverick, pushing and pulling according to its own whims rather than following the dancer-centric energetic flow of a standard club record. Somewhere in this alchemy between classic ingredients and confrontational experimentation, he evokes the original chaotic spirit of hardcore when it seemed anything was possible within the music.

'For Nothing' is the perfect example — a tunnelling odyssey of ferrous atmospheres, roundhouse drums and bass bloated into the red on a force-fed diet of saturation. 'Total Deceit' turns up the pressure on the break chopping science de Babalon is capable of, teasing gamelan flurries and elegiac swirls that hit at the emotional depth he can wrench amidst such bludgeoning material. 'Jaded Memory' funnels Mentasm bass into a strange new form amidst staggering, tightly clipped drumfunk, leaving enough space for haunting ballroom reveries stretching out across the mid-section. That leaves it to 'Dearth Mill' to mop up with gloriously creepy detuned piano notes slopping over each other in between the most ferocious blasts of drums on the whole record.

You didn't expect something straight-forward, did you? More

Bassline veteran and all-round soundsystem sorcerer Marcel Deptford lands on Sneaker Social Club with two ruff-n'-tuff rave-n'-b re-flips that run as a prelude to big things to come.

This is the first time you will have heard a record under the name Marcel Deptford, but he's got serious skin in the game with an imposing history in the legendary bassline scene from the late-00s. His records as DS1 are the stuff of legend for anyone keyed into the Niche-centric sound, but more recently he's put out some serious heat as Haider running his own Breaker Breaker label and popping up on Aus and the like.

If you're a fan of millennial RnB there's every chance you'll recognise the vocals that breathe life into Deptford's two tracks for this Sneaker release. Moving beyond simple edit territory, the voices are bedded deep down into gritty rave productions that boast the kind of dirt bag sonics that call straight back to the OG days of breakbeat hardcore. 'Rock The Boat' has bloated bass pushing into the red, clattering breaks chopped up with a rugged swagger and a dreamy, haunted dose of dub poured all over the vocals.

'Make It Hot' has a lighter, swung feel which nods to garage, but there's still plenty of weight on the low end. Once the lead vocal sample steps back to open up the space, Deptford's knack for strong melodic hooks comes through in a blown out arp line which the bassline dutifully follows.

Hitting every sweet spot from the low-down dirty rave receptors via moody head-nodding restraint on to iconic vocals, Marcel Deptford shows exactly what he's capable on this release ahead of a more extensive dive into his legacy, due further down the line. More

Vinyl in Screenprinted PVC Sleeve inc. Photo Book.

On his latest full-length, Low End Activist swerves towards weightless grime and suspended hardcore miniatures to tell a very personal story. The UK-rooted producer continues his habit of zeroing in on a distinct approach for each release, leaving a logical breadcrumb trail of soundsystem science in his wake as he channels decades of bass absorption into 14 atmospheric cuts that prize patience and precision over obvious club functionality.

Municipal Dreams plays out as a semi-autobiographical tour through the Blackbird Leys estate that the Activist grew up on. It’s a lived reflection on inequality and the ripple effect it has in working class communities, using the sonic palette to set the mood and scattering pointed samples throughout to spell out the story.

In sampling the exhaust of a stolen Subaru Impreza, ‘TWOC’ looks back to the recreational car theft which was standard entertainment for the kids in his community. There’s an underlying idea that this ‘council estate sport’ wouldn’t have been so prevalent if there were public services and opportunities presented to the scores of disaffected youth looking for somewhere to direct their energy and frustration.

In ‘Just A Number (Institutionalised)’ LEA alludes to the shattered juvenile detention system, growing up seeing friends and family members locked up at ease with little to no support on being released back into society, just meant that the same cycles of behaviour would play out over and over.

‘Violence’ samples from a short film shot by the drama division of the Blackbird Leys Youth Club to evoke the physical threat which formed a background hum to life on the estate. The industrial mechanics of the local car factory, which served an integral role as a workplace for many in the community, gets sampled in ‘They Only Come Out At Night’ while the ‘Everyone I look up to are either junkies or criminals’ sample in ‘Broke’ looks to a lack of positive role models.

Municipal Dreams isn’t a one-note indictment of life on the estate, ‘Innocence’ captures the simplicity of a child at birth before their environment has time to shape them. The Hope interludes cut through the grim honesty of the longer tracks while a subtle thread of wry humour finds its way into some of the talking heads cutting through the signature LEA murk.

But honesty is the operative word here, and the message feels all the more meaningful at a time when the UK’s social divisions are laid bare in the wake of a devastating stretch of austerity. Returning to Blackbird Leys to shoot images for the photo-zine and album cover, the Activist found the local community centre being demolished. The local pub stands derelict, its faded Welcome sign a grimly ironic portent of the options facing children of the estate in the wider world.

Funnelling his memories, hopes and fears into a singular twist on the bass weight tradition, LEA captures evocative scenes that land somewhere between kitchen sink realism and rave futurism. More

Bringing stark dread bass vibes like no one before or since, Mars89 makes a welcome return to Sneaker Social Club with another four-track script flipper.

Since he first surged onto the radar with some incisive moves on Bokeh Versions back in 2017, Masayoshi Anotani has deployed a raw, non-conformist kind of bass music that's minimal in spirit but packing incredible weight where it counts. It draws parallels with weightless grime, but swap the woozy square wave synths out for fierce industrial textures and dystopian bleeps, and maybe you're halfway there.

Following on from 2022's Night Call and a collab LP with Seekersinternational on his own Nocturnal Technology, Mars89 is back with an EP which takes on new sonic dimensions without losing the persistent moodiness that makes his shadowy sonics so compelling.

'No Control' feels the most in line with the earlier Mars89 work, creating a back and forth between an upfront grime-y synth lick and blown out bass notes. The space around the notes is as vital as everything being played, creating a tension that doesn't let up no matter how much the brittle percussion rattles.

'Sonar Breaks' feels distinct as it drags a sticky drum loop through the dirt until it comes out positively caked. That leaves plenty of room for the bleeps up top to cut through the mix with devastating clarity, and Mars89 needs nothing else to make a taut piece of soundsystem Semtex.

'Hydra' continues to draw influence from jungle while taking a sideways approach to breakbeat edits, finding a curious groove in angular drum science before a stark arpeggio locks the track down. It's another hint at the different tools being reached for on this EP, brought into the Mars89 methodology and bent to his particular will.

'Still Dreaming' closes the EP out with an evocative sample from a sci-fi blockbuster and a spiralling sound bed of synth lines and break shards. While the track lands softer than its predecessors, the dense mix whips up a claustrophobic allure comfortably aligned with the overall intensity of the record — an intensity which is wholly unique to Mars89 and his maverick manoeuvres in the field of contemporary bass music. More

Hold tight for a double-sized drop of ruff n’ tuff jungle variations as Dead Man’s Chest and King Kutlass throw their weight around with six seismic slammers built for the shockout section. We previously welcomed Bristol’s Western Lore doyen Alex Eveson to Sneaker Social Club alongside Posse back in 2019, and now he returns with King Kutlass in tow for a 2 x 12” of heavy duty, darkside rollers.

The Western Lore remit has always been to push at the limits of the jungle template, embracing distinctive twists without losing the fundamentals of the sound, and that comes through loud and clear on this searing workout. From the compression chamber, stepped breaks of ‘Ride The Storm’ to lurid rave game-ender ‘We Control’, this is not club music for the feint hearted. There’s even space for nightmarish 4/4 thrust n’ stabs on ‘Heart Of The Sun’, pointing to the liminal zone where breakbeat hardcore, techno and rave all crossed paths en route to more fully formed stylistic conventions.

That’s the vibe which runs throughout this EP, where the rules feel a long way off and the madcap sample layering is heavily tipped towards psychological annihilation under the stuttering glare of the strobe light. More

After 7 years and countless requests, Sneaker Social Club finally deliver a repress of Dream Cycle - Part One.

After a chance meeting at Gottwood in 2016 a bond was established between Dream Cycle (Robin Clarke) and label owner Jamie Russell over a shared love of 2 Bad Mice and Moving Shadow. It wasn't long before Clarke began channeling elements of that influence to produce his Dream Cycle Part.1 EP. Unfolding over 4 steppy tracks and an ambient closer, Clarke melds sharp snares, summery motifs, dense atmospheres and thick subs whilst keeping things suffused with a distinctly UK quality that marries his work perfectly with the Sneaker catalogue.

DJ Support: Ryan Elliott, DJ Die, The Blessed Madonna, Octo Octa, Bwana, Altered Natives, Noodles (Groove Chronicles), Liem (Lehult), Deejay Astral, LA4A, 2 Bad Mice, Fred P, Matt Karmil, Flori, Marco Zenker, J.Rocc (lol at comment!), Ajukaja, Gnork, William Djoko, Till Von Sein, Fold, ASOK, Gene Farris, DJ bwin, Seven Davis Jr, TRP, DJ Octopus, DJ Normal 4, Gerd, Dean Man s Chest, Poté, Doc Scott, Violet, James Welsh (Kamera), Konx-om-Pax, Etch, Raresh, Hrdvsion, Michael Serafini (Gramaphone), Frazer Ray, DJ Guy, Mak & Pasteman, Shenoda, Urulu, Mark Archer & James Zabiela, Zinc, Lehult, Jackie House, Mosca, Noodles (Groove Chronicles) & DJ Die. More

Lock on for a legit excursion into 140 realness as Sneaker Social Club welcomes Silas into the fold. The breakthrough Oxford beatsmith has been on the bubble-up for a minute, facing off with the likes of Trends and Boylan on Mean Streets, remixing PRAGA and throwing down for repeat appearances on Rinse and elsewhere.

The sound Silas pushes on the ‘Wot’ EP - his debut solo 12” no less - is steeped in the original dank pressure of OG grime and dubstep, where moodiness and minimalism create the perfect storm for all-consuming soundsystem immersion. There’s a wavey swing to ‘Know Yourself’ which contrasts with the strict, claustrophobic drive of ‘Wot’. ‘Ubuntu’ on the flip teases an evocative sound world just past the edge of the mix, but manages to hold down the stripped back approach on a skippy 4/4 rhythm which nudges garage into a kind of tech-house-funky amalgamation. ‘Make It Happen’ offers yet another subtle slant on Silas’ style, crooked and gritty but still executed with
an unrelenting, austere focus.

Consider this an essential pin dropped on forward-leaning bassweight sounds which carry the torch for grime and dubstep’s ice-cold origins, maintaining maximum presence without even a whiff of derivative wobble. More

The legendary Horsepower Productions return to Sneaker for a thematically charged trip into future zones, driven by dexterous breakbeat science and ruffneck soundboy wisdom.

The UK dubplate heavyweights are no stranger to a loaded sample, and they’ve got a message to impart on this double-edged record. They kick off with a rumination on the planet’s fragile ecosystem on ‘Tropic’, which looks to a possible future with an ominous fate for the foliage we hold dear. Production-wise, Horsepower set electric drum loops off against lurid daubs of synth without derailing the motion, but a huge amount of the track’s impact arrives in the sampling from a cult classic slice of sci-fi. The premise is that the last remaining trees and plants from earth are adrift in space in a bio-dome, and have been condemned for demolition - a depressingly feasible scenario with an aggravated soundtrack to boot.

On the flip, ‘Computer Rock’ rides a tough break slow and hard and injects dystopian electro synth licks into the mix for a darkside roller that celebrates the visionary talent of Jeff Brown, aka Kase 2. Brown pioneered graffiti in the 70s with futuristic styles that still hold sway today, leaning into his own sci-fi imaginings about computer worlds inhabited by extra-terrestrial beings, Brown passed away in 2011, and this track and the attendant B2 cut ‘Kase - Reprise’ pay tribute to a forefather of hip-hop culture by channeling the future shock styles of Bambaataa et al without ever sounding throwback.

The concept on this record gets taken out further with the additional digi-only tracks, which take in the low-slung, skunked up funk of ‘Blaque Gras’ and the amped up rave damage of ‘Kase 2-Part 2’. Throughout, on-point samples and a clear-eyed focus bring out the best in the Horsepower approach, offering up next level dance wreckers with something to say. More

Repress!

More than ten years since he first emerged on Skull Disco, Appleblim presents his debut album. The label he co-founded with Shackleton was the first the world heard of his productions, but Laurie Osborne’s innate relationship with electronic music culture reaches back much further than those groundbreaking early days of dubstep. Early days spent soaking up hardcore, jungle, techno and plenty more besides were fundamental foundations from which to spring into the then-unknown realms of sub-low half-step club music. At that time FWD>> and DMZ were the church for this ritualistic sound, and Appleblim was a regular fixture at both.

As dubstep matured, magnified, mutated and meandered, so Appleblim moved beyond Skull Disco to explore different avenues of expression in the new many- layered club music landscape. His own Apple Pips imprint was a natural vessel on which to explore the emergent fusions of hardcore-derived sounds and the US-born house, techno and electro, while labels such as Aus Music equally provided a home for his work (often alongside Komonazmuk). Meanwhile long-standing collaborations with Alec Storey (Al Tourettes / Second Storey) finally manifested in the hyper-modern mind-twist of ALSO, captured as an album on legendary rave label R&S.

More recently it’s been possible to hear Appleblim delve into electro-acoustic and ambient production alongside bassweight sounds on Tempa, one of the original bastions of dubstep culture. As the existing boundaries between genres, cultures, eras and scenes continue to dissolve, on his debut album Appleblim offers up a fresh approach that brings some of the foundational sound ethics of rave culture into a modern framework.

Hardcore breaks are still a regular sound source in contemporary club tracks, but on Life In A Laser it’s instantly apparent that Appleblim has moved beyond choosing popular drum samples to truly tap into the elusive feeling engendered by the music of the era. It’s a tricky feat to manage, but in the pie-eyed chords of “Ignite”, the subby 808 tom basslines on “NCI” or the Mr. Fingers synth flex on “Manta Key” the sonic finish sports the same understated grit and grime that made those early records so timeless. There’s still space for modernism, not least on snaking 2-step killer “I Think We'll Let The Gas Sort This One Out”, but it’s offset by a layer of dust, not to mention an inherent moodiness that can’t be faked.

This fine balance of rave romanticism and future-minded approaches binds together in a cohesive conceptual statement. First and foremost it’s Appleblim’s personal reflection on the music that has moved him on countless dancefloors since his first flirtations with soundsystem culture. At the same time the canny influx of modern ideas into the soundworld of the 90s genuinely results in a new proposition, making for a perfect fit on the modern-day ‘ardcore fetishists label of choice, Sneaker Social Club. Many may claim to draw on old-skool influences in their modern trax, but take one listen to “Flows From Within” and you’ll feel the same time-slipping surge of future-shock as the ravers at Lost, Dreamscape, The Dungeons, Clink Street, Blue Note and all those other iconic spots.

Newton aka Nick Newton aka Nick Rhythm Section. You know this EP is going to hit the spot when you have one of the original members of the first rave super group on production!

Originally released on Rhythm Section Recordings in 1992, this EP will be well known to many who use to got to the big raves of the early 90’s. Every track captures that moment of history, erupting into peak time rave anthems with hooks and riff that imprint into your brain!

The tracks go from the darker side of the scene into full on rave anthems for the hands in the air crew. You know if it came out on RSR back in the day that it will tick every box and more. More

Having been re-discovered as a groundbreaking slice of proto-grime from 1994, Dylan Beale’s legendary soundtrack for the SNES game Wolverine: Adamantium Rage finally gets the reissue treatment it deserves via Sneaker Social Club.

When the game came out in 1994, Beale’s soundtrack for the SNES edition stood out from the pack for its gritty beats, deceptively weighty low end and edgy orchestra stabs, but few would have guessed how certain tracks would predict the shape of music to come. Around 2016, the ‘Tri-fusion’ track in particular was picked up on by London-based producer Sir Pixalot as a mind-blowing slice of Eski beat coldness. To prove his point, Pixalot ran an acapella from J-Wing over the track and the results spoke for themselves.

While ‘Tri-Fusion’ is a straight-up accidental grime sheller, there’s scores more heat packed away in Beale’s soundtrack for Adamantium Rage. The limitations of the space on the game cart meant Beale had to get creative with the most limited samples. Fortunately his background producing UK hardcore and jungle in Rude & Deadly and Stuck To Your Lips meant he knew his way around the restrictions of an Akai s950. Fuelled by the inspiration of jungle and West Coast rap, he worked on the game soundtrack with a similar spartan attitude, limited to 200kb with which to load up the music engine for the game, samples and all.

Given the importance of minimalism in the effectiveness of soundsystem music, it’s not surprising tracks like ‘Cyber’ and ‘Dark Queen’ pack a punch which could absolutely set a dance off. Watch out for ‘Weapon X Lab’ too - another stand out bomb creating a deadly machine funk out of the tightly clipped bass samples and weird animal groan loops. Alongside the full, original soundtrack, this first issue of Wolverine: Adamantium Rage OST comes with additional tracks never used in the original game which widen out the styles Beale was exploring within the shockingly limited means at his disposal.

“I vividly remember when we first played the soundtrack on a bigger set of speakers to the boss,” Beale recalls, “his initial reaction was one of amazement that we had created something so ‘real’and different in comparison to everything else out there in terms of video game music, which I remember with great pride and fondness. Comparing to everything out there, it was totally unique- a moment in time.” More

Weighing in with more of the deadly payloads that make systems weep, Alan Johnson return to Sneaker Social Club to finish what they started on 2022’s The Stillness EP.
Gareth and Tom’s sharp instinct for the fundamentals of crushing half-step pressure remain undiminished on this latest EP. Their sound palette reaches across contrasting strands of music culture, and every bar is teeming with micro details of sound design which give the tracks a living, breathing quality.

Ten Year Tonnage splits the EP open in whipcrack snares, DMZ flutes and a thick bed of sub, constantly shifting and teasing roots drops before opening up the mids and letting the low end snarl.

The chord hook on ‘Shapeshifter’ nudges towards some bold rave shapes, but there’s restraint and poise in the way the sounds get deployed. The Johnson way is one of suffocating space and uneasy tension, which obviously creates the best kind of dancefloor drama. As ‘Muay Size’ ably demonstrates, the likely lads are happy to pare a tune back to a skeletal framework and keep dancers waiting. When the pay-off comes, it’s not what you might expect, and that’s precisely why their sound is fresher than yours.

‘People Of The World’ goes even further out as it staggers and stumbles through skewed jazz samples and snatches of drums being thrown across the room. For all the splaying angles, there’s still a rock solid weight to the tune which proves Alan Johnson are more than comfortable taking things out to a weird fringe without losing their swagger. More

Last year Low End Activist mapped out the depth and breadth of his sound with the Hostile Utopia album on Sneaker Social Club and now he returns with a fresh payload of future shock-outs from the grimy depths of his sound well. Recent times have seen LEA releases tipping towards MC guest spots but on this EP he’s turning inward with three varied, mutant workouts for soundsystem immersion.

‘Sent West’ makes no bones about its inspiration from the tough, boxy end of early dubstep, but as ever the kink in the Activist’s sound comes from the detail around the rhythm and his embrace of off-centre textures. ‘Neurosis’ plumbs even further down in its dogged pursuit of infinite subs and dystopian atmospherics, offering the kind of subliminal, wayward stepper to tweak nervous minds to distraction. ‘Dry Chat, Wet Rag’ stretches out on the B side with a phantom dub pulled from rad-blasted wastelands, caked in slime and tough enough to withstand any fallout.

Calling to mind the introspective, evocative work on the likes of Engineers Origins EP, this is LEA using the hardcore continuum to tell his most murked-out tales. More

Weighing in heavy with murderous intent across three guaranteed dance levellers, Trends & Boylan land on Sneaker Social Club with a bang. The pair have been slugging out grime-leaning gear for the past five years, causing a ruckus with their truly evil ‘Norman Bates’ beat, releasing also on Trends own Mean Streets label and linking up with Slimzee’s foundational stable Slimzos for some dubplate action.

They bring that street-level swagger to the tracks on the Ninety Nine EP, but here their punchy 8-bar flex is embellished to blend in with the Sneaker surroundings a treat. ‘Carnage’ tips towards chopped up Think Breaks while ‘Nocturnal’ doubles down on the dirtiest of b-lines. Confirming their allyship from dubplates' gone by, Slimzee links up with Trends & Boylan for the double A side slammer, ‘Ninety Nine’, weaving dread-side D&B stabs around a tightly-wound beat with devastating results.

There’s not an ounce of excess on these cuts precision tooled to smashup the dance good and proper. Need we say more? More

Bowling out of Offenbach with a swing in his step, Dogpatrol returns for round three on Sneaker Social packing another four-strong payload of mutant rave clout. If you caught the previous missives then you should have some idea of where he's coming from, getting freaky with rave signifiers and laying down ear-snagging swerves to juice up the dance good and proper.

On this latest release we dip-dive into the grime-licked garage-tech shuffle of 'Non PGR' only for the script to get flipped at the mid-section in favour of diced up Think breaks. The pressure doesn't ease once Nasty King Kurl comes on board for a rolling remix strapped to a disgustingly massive kick drum impulse.

'Sassafras' takes a leaner approach to bleepy breakbeat contortions on the B side, holding down the arrangement and letting the track rip when everyone's wound up and hungry. NKK returns again to partner up with our resident Dog for the collab joint 'Creepin', chopping out the RnB samples and whipping up square wave synth flurries shouting out that overlooked substrata of dubstep - the Purple sound. It's a cheeky hint at the deep-level affinity for all rave gear which powers this EP, another sure step on from your favourite canine soundsystem practitioner. More

Rushing out advanced patterns that springboard from hi-tek soul, jungle, footwork and weightless grime into unknown zones, J-Shadow arrives on Sneaker Social Club with an album which cements his status as a true sonic scientist.

Since his first drops some five years prior, the London-based DJ/producer has weaved a web of intrigue across labels like Bun The Grid, Nous Disques, Warehouse Rave and an album last year for Keysound. Through it all, he’s demonstrated a prodigal affinity for the elements of hardcore -rooted soundsystem culture without ever being beholden by the perceived rules of dance music. In his hands, tracks can hover in suspense without ever needing a breakdown or build-up, pivoting on skittering drum machine pulses or teetering on the precipice of mountainous subs, gliding on celestial pads or skating into abyssal negative space. The acknowledgement for past methods is there in some of the canonical samples - like where Heather O’Rourke’s Poltergeistcall takes on a truly alternative dimension subtly bedded into the vast swathes of ‘Beneath The Undertow’ - but nothing is as it seems.

The End Of All Physical Form is no self-consciously ‘deconstructed’ record, though. It’s futurist rather than post-modern, carrying on the legacy of jungle and other such forms as vehicles for innovation and urgent exploration, bristling with energy and still, ironically, physical despite the mutated forms the beats and basslines manifest in. Find these works an open-eared soundsystem and they’ll absolutely do the damage, taking the dance somewhere far beyond in the process. More