The one-twenty grid locks with the implacable patience of a dub plate, but make no mistake: that energy reading of nine translates to genuine pressure, not mere pace. Stott’s architecture is all submerged concrete and rusted reverb, with Skidmore’s presence ghosting through the mix like a half-remembered transmission, while the 5A minor-key centre keeps everything coiled tight and slightly dangerous. Modern Love’s signature low-end weight is here in abundance—sub-bass that seems to bloom from the floorboards rather than the speakers.
In the booth, this is a mid-set curveball; I’d drop it once the floor is hypnotised, letting that 120-BPM tempo act as false comfort before the dubby minimalism swallows the room whole. It does not ask for hands in the air—it demands heads-down immersion, sitting between brutish functionality and avant-garde dread. A masterclass in tension from a label that wrote the manual.