Lorraa

At one-forty, Lorraa moves with a half-time swagger that feels heavier than its metronome suggests, sinking into A-minor shadows rather than reaching for the ceiling. The energy sits at a deliberate six—club-ready but restrained, letting the bass pressure do the talking while the percussion skitters in tight, hypnotic loops.

It is a record built for the deeper pockets of a set, where the room’s humidity matches the low-end rumble and dancers lock into subtle shifts rather than drops. On Ilian Tape, this fits as pure floor ammunition: functional enough to mix, yet distinctive enough to mark the DJ’s identity in the blur of a long night.