The drums land with a measured insistence at 136 BPM, and to my ears there is neither rush nor drag, only a tunnel of momentum suited to the hours when the floor has thinned to the devoted. The percussion carries a dryness that keeps the energy taut at an 8 without tipping into hysteria; every element seems placed to sustain rather than climax, letting that 11A minor shade do the heavy lifting for mood.
I would slide this comfortably into the stretch where the night deepens past three and the room becomes a single, swaying frequency. It does not ask for peaks or overt spectacle; it simply extends the floor’s pulse, a disciplined piece of late-night architecture that earns its place through restraint.