Freak

At 128 BPM, the record locks into a merciless four-to-the-floor stride that I would place squarely in peak-hour devastation territory. The energy is pegged at nine, and I hear it in the low-end, where bass-house pressure meets a rigid technoid grid, letting that playable hook slice cleanly through the kind of dense, smoke-choked mix I live for.

Written in the tight, minor tension of 3A, it builds the claustrophobic, strobe-lit room I want when every bar has to insist on movement. I would not claim it reinvents the wheel, but on Experts Only it delivers precisely what the label promises: a credible, floor-focussed weapon that slots neatly into the high-intensity pocket of my main-stage or warehouse sets.