At 146 BPM in 4B, this is a pressure cooker from the first kick. The energy rating of nine is no exaggeration, yet the tool-leaning construction means it functions more as a tunnel than a destination. I can hear the Soma pedigree in the disciplined, hypnotic grid—every hi-hat slice and sub-bass throb locked to a merciless pulse. It does not ask for my attention; it seizes the floor by force and holds it there.
In my sets, this is a bridging weapon—an unrelenting plateau between peaks, where the taut harmonic space of 4B keeps dancers locked without offering catharsis. The texture is utilitarian but refined, built for dark rooms and precise systems. When I am hunting functional severity at the harder end of the brief, it delivers exactly that: no flourish, just forward motion.