Thinking of You

At 120 BPM in the minor-key curl of 11A, the rhythm doesn’t bang so much as slink, locking the room into a low-lit swivel that feels expensive and unhurried. Herbert’s sound design is meticulous: every hi-hat tick and sub-bass murmur sits in its own pocket, creating a spacious, almost architectural environment where the energy sits at a constant simmer rather than a boil.

It is the kind of record that makes most sense when the dance floor has thinned to the faithful, a bridging tool between peak-time house and something more cerebral. The nine-out-of-ten charge is held in reserve, deployed through tension rather than drops, making it ideal for those late moments when you need to maintain momentum without bludgeoning the crowd.