Tempa returns after almost a decade with a surprise drop from Kenyan bass savant Slikback, who turns in three galaxy-brained dancefloor weapons, bending dubstep, ambient, hardstyle, ballroom, jungle and riddim and trap beyond recognition in the process. Madness, as expected.
It might be at a time when music (of any kind) has never been more easy to acquire, or make. There's not much in it between a slop and a sundae, but Slikback's the sonic equivalent of a molecular gastronomist - everything he uses sounds as if it's been meticulously examined before it's deployed for maximum flavor potential. And 'Data' might be his slickest (sorry) offering yet, mixed expertly to enhance every aspect of his relentlessly future-facing formula. The producer's spent the last few years voraciously devouring music from across the club landscape, distilling only the most useful elements and creating a unique sound that's instantly recognisable - the kind of post-everything stomp that sounds as if it's gonna be required listening for the next generation.
Disorienting heartbeat pulses and robotic crunches lead us into 'Sea', humanised by microscopic vocal tics that foreshadow Slikback's lurch into double-time and then jerky halfstep. Of course, it's not yr usual main-stage gear by any means; midway through the track, the rhytm dissipates, replaced with 'Silent Hill' ambience that moors the chaotic final act, when Slikback rushes thru polyrhythmic syncopations. On 'Dread', he sways from anodized trap to squeaky sci-fi ballroom, adding apocalyptic crashes and space station blips to the suffocating atmosphere. 'Data' is the real killer though; brushing the dust off an amen break, he cuts jungle with hardstyle, reintroducing some much-needed swing and laying waste to club.
Next level!
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Tempa returns after almost a decade with a surprise drop from Kenyan bass savant Slikback, who turns in three galaxy-brained dancefloor weapons, bending dubstep, ambient, hardstyle, ballroom, jungle and riddim and trap beyond recognition in the process. Madness, as expected.
It might be at a time when music (of any kind) has never been more easy to acquire, or make. There's not much in it between a slop and a sundae, but Slikback's the sonic equivalent of a molecular gastronomist - everything he uses sounds as if it's been meticulously examined before it's deployed for maximum flavor potential. And 'Data' might be his slickest (sorry) offering yet, mixed expertly to enhance every aspect of his relentlessly future-facing formula. The producer's spent the last few years voraciously devouring music from across the club landscape, distilling only the most useful elements and creating a unique sound that's instantly recognisable - the kind of post-everything stomp that sounds as if it's gonna be required listening for the next generation.
Disorienting heartbeat pulses and robotic crunches lead us into 'Sea', humanised by microscopic vocal tics that foreshadow Slikback's lurch into double-time and then jerky halfstep. Of course, it's not yr usual main-stage gear by any means; midway through the track, the rhytm dissipates, replaced with 'Silent Hill' ambience that moors the chaotic final act, when Slikback rushes thru polyrhythmic syncopations. On 'Dread', he sways from anodized trap to squeaky sci-fi ballroom, adding apocalyptic crashes and space station blips to the suffocating atmosphere. 'Data' is the real killer though; brushing the dust off an amen break, he cuts jungle with hardstyle, reintroducing some much-needed swing and laying waste to club.
Next level!
Tempa returns after almost a decade with a surprise drop from Kenyan bass savant Slikback, who turns in three galaxy-brained dancefloor weapons, bending dubstep, ambient, hardstyle, ballroom, jungle and riddim and trap beyond recognition in the process. Madness, as expected.
It might be at a time when music (of any kind) has never been more easy to acquire, or make. There's not much in it between a slop and a sundae, but Slikback's the sonic equivalent of a molecular gastronomist - everything he uses sounds as if it's been meticulously examined before it's deployed for maximum flavor potential. And 'Data' might be his slickest (sorry) offering yet, mixed expertly to enhance every aspect of his relentlessly future-facing formula. The producer's spent the last few years voraciously devouring music from across the club landscape, distilling only the most useful elements and creating a unique sound that's instantly recognisable - the kind of post-everything stomp that sounds as if it's gonna be required listening for the next generation.
Disorienting heartbeat pulses and robotic crunches lead us into 'Sea', humanised by microscopic vocal tics that foreshadow Slikback's lurch into double-time and then jerky halfstep. Of course, it's not yr usual main-stage gear by any means; midway through the track, the rhytm dissipates, replaced with 'Silent Hill' ambience that moors the chaotic final act, when Slikback rushes thru polyrhythmic syncopations. On 'Dread', he sways from anodized trap to squeaky sci-fi ballroom, adding apocalyptic crashes and space station blips to the suffocating atmosphere. 'Data' is the real killer though; brushing the dust off an amen break, he cuts jungle with hardstyle, reintroducing some much-needed swing and laying waste to club.
Next level!
Tempa returns after almost a decade with a surprise drop from Kenyan bass savant Slikback, who turns in three galaxy-brained dancefloor weapons, bending dubstep, ambient, hardstyle, ballroom, jungle and riddim and trap beyond recognition in the process. Madness, as expected.
It might be at a time when music (of any kind) has never been more easy to acquire, or make. There's not much in it between a slop and a sundae, but Slikback's the sonic equivalent of a molecular gastronomist - everything he uses sounds as if it's been meticulously examined before it's deployed for maximum flavor potential. And 'Data' might be his slickest (sorry) offering yet, mixed expertly to enhance every aspect of his relentlessly future-facing formula. The producer's spent the last few years voraciously devouring music from across the club landscape, distilling only the most useful elements and creating a unique sound that's instantly recognisable - the kind of post-everything stomp that sounds as if it's gonna be required listening for the next generation.
Disorienting heartbeat pulses and robotic crunches lead us into 'Sea', humanised by microscopic vocal tics that foreshadow Slikback's lurch into double-time and then jerky halfstep. Of course, it's not yr usual main-stage gear by any means; midway through the track, the rhytm dissipates, replaced with 'Silent Hill' ambience that moors the chaotic final act, when Slikback rushes thru polyrhythmic syncopations. On 'Dread', he sways from anodized trap to squeaky sci-fi ballroom, adding apocalyptic crashes and space station blips to the suffocating atmosphere. 'Data' is the real killer though; brushing the dust off an amen break, he cuts jungle with hardstyle, reintroducing some much-needed swing and laying waste to club.
Next level!