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hudson mohawke - Satin Panthers
Hud Mo is back and what a return it is: a blistering EP that takes all the proggy, 23rd century R&B surrealism of his Butter album and squeezes it into the toughest, tautest dancefloor material he's ever produced. By now you'll probably have heard lead track 'Thunder Bay', essentially ruff and riffy grime reimagined in retina-frazzling technicolour, invested with tranced-out US hip-hop bombast and British 'ardkore insouciance. It bangs. The good news is that the rest of the EP more than holds up: 'Octan' sounds like a chance meeting between Terror Danjah and Philip Glass on an operating table, heavy purple synths charging through a dawn rain of looped, sparkling minimalist arpeggios. Speaking of minimalist, 'Cbat' is outrageously lean and mean, the baddest-assed minor-key hook you've heard all year prodding at you across ultra-sparse, G-friendly beats and jeep-juddering subs. 'All Your Love' starts out like a syrupy The-Dream-style lovers' lament, but its UK rave DNA soon exerts itself in the shape of righteously '91-style piano vamps and chipmunked vocal snips - another out-and-out anthem. 'Thank You' closes out proceedings, coming over like an unholy union of Roger Troutman, Clams Casino and Busy Signal, all airy, anthemic synths, dancehall-bothering martial snares and pinched electro-funk noodling. Honestly, it's an absolute delight to find Hud so emphatically servicing the club without sacrificing the unbridled inventiveness that makes him special - make no mistake, Satin Panthers is a new creative peak for the young Glaswegian. Superb.