At 133 BPM, Our Mother’s Walk wears the skeleton of peak-time machinery, yet its energy level of 2 keeps every element submerged in thick, static-laden fog. Written in 5B, the harmonic centre feels almost hymnal, but DJ Seinfeld starves the drums of weight, letting the rhythm hover like a half-remembered pulse rather than march forward with any intent. It is ambient music disguised as techno, or perhaps the reverse.
On Ninja Tune, it reads as an outlier: too brisk for the chill-out room, too vaporous to move a floor. I would slot it into a 3 AM comedown, where the metronome fools the body but the near-silence clears the head. As a palette cleanser between heavier cuts it works, though leftfield purists may find the conceit thinner than the atmospheres promise.