Aussie bassbin meddler Air Max ’97 clears HD space with a 46-part salvo spanning all angles of his takes on weightless grime, deconstructed club, trap and drill, and melancholy ambient chamber music.
Since emerging circa 2014, and throughout his dozens of works for his Decisions label and likes of Batu’s Timedance, Air Max ’97 has restlessly shifted boxes in an amorphous style only loosely linked to the ‘floor. His sound has picked up the vernacular of UK club music’s odder edges, tailored to a mercurial, expressive style and pattern that keeps certain strand of dancers on toes and likewise fuels earbud mooches with transient moods and a melodic quota that distinguishes it from the milieu.
There’s a fuck ton of work on ‘Production Dossier’ to get thru - 2 hours to be precise - all arranged mixtape style for a thru-line of logic that wraps you up in his world, from the feline grime prowl of ‘4M’, thru the poised chamber drill bits of ‘Celestial’ and coarser textured ‘Cordura’, to the Nammy wams-esque, dare-to-differ drill of ‘Gremlins’, and a strutting ‘Jungle’ , to aerated electronica structures of ‘Memory Card’, Equiknoxx-adjacent dancehall frolic ‘Poolside’, and ‘Sunset’, for example.
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Aussie bassbin meddler Air Max ’97 clears HD space with a 46-part salvo spanning all angles of his takes on weightless grime, deconstructed club, trap and drill, and melancholy ambient chamber music.
Since emerging circa 2014, and throughout his dozens of works for his Decisions label and likes of Batu’s Timedance, Air Max ’97 has restlessly shifted boxes in an amorphous style only loosely linked to the ‘floor. His sound has picked up the vernacular of UK club music’s odder edges, tailored to a mercurial, expressive style and pattern that keeps certain strand of dancers on toes and likewise fuels earbud mooches with transient moods and a melodic quota that distinguishes it from the milieu.
There’s a fuck ton of work on ‘Production Dossier’ to get thru - 2 hours to be precise - all arranged mixtape style for a thru-line of logic that wraps you up in his world, from the feline grime prowl of ‘4M’, thru the poised chamber drill bits of ‘Celestial’ and coarser textured ‘Cordura’, to the Nammy wams-esque, dare-to-differ drill of ‘Gremlins’, and a strutting ‘Jungle’ , to aerated electronica structures of ‘Memory Card’, Equiknoxx-adjacent dancehall frolic ‘Poolside’, and ‘Sunset’, for example.
Aussie bassbin meddler Air Max ’97 clears HD space with a 46-part salvo spanning all angles of his takes on weightless grime, deconstructed club, trap and drill, and melancholy ambient chamber music.
Since emerging circa 2014, and throughout his dozens of works for his Decisions label and likes of Batu’s Timedance, Air Max ’97 has restlessly shifted boxes in an amorphous style only loosely linked to the ‘floor. His sound has picked up the vernacular of UK club music’s odder edges, tailored to a mercurial, expressive style and pattern that keeps certain strand of dancers on toes and likewise fuels earbud mooches with transient moods and a melodic quota that distinguishes it from the milieu.
There’s a fuck ton of work on ‘Production Dossier’ to get thru - 2 hours to be precise - all arranged mixtape style for a thru-line of logic that wraps you up in his world, from the feline grime prowl of ‘4M’, thru the poised chamber drill bits of ‘Celestial’ and coarser textured ‘Cordura’, to the Nammy wams-esque, dare-to-differ drill of ‘Gremlins’, and a strutting ‘Jungle’ , to aerated electronica structures of ‘Memory Card’, Equiknoxx-adjacent dancehall frolic ‘Poolside’, and ‘Sunset’, for example.
Aussie bassbin meddler Air Max ’97 clears HD space with a 46-part salvo spanning all angles of his takes on weightless grime, deconstructed club, trap and drill, and melancholy ambient chamber music.
Since emerging circa 2014, and throughout his dozens of works for his Decisions label and likes of Batu’s Timedance, Air Max ’97 has restlessly shifted boxes in an amorphous style only loosely linked to the ‘floor. His sound has picked up the vernacular of UK club music’s odder edges, tailored to a mercurial, expressive style and pattern that keeps certain strand of dancers on toes and likewise fuels earbud mooches with transient moods and a melodic quota that distinguishes it from the milieu.
There’s a fuck ton of work on ‘Production Dossier’ to get thru - 2 hours to be precise - all arranged mixtape style for a thru-line of logic that wraps you up in his world, from the feline grime prowl of ‘4M’, thru the poised chamber drill bits of ‘Celestial’ and coarser textured ‘Cordura’, to the Nammy wams-esque, dare-to-differ drill of ‘Gremlins’, and a strutting ‘Jungle’ , to aerated electronica structures of ‘Memory Card’, Equiknoxx-adjacent dancehall frolic ‘Poolside’, and ‘Sunset’, for example.