Flick It Back

At 133 the swing has room to breathe — fast enough to push, slow enough that the groove never stiffens. In B minor the bassline circles three or four notes, and everything hangs in the gap between the kick and the dry percussive flick that answers it. Energy reads high, but it's a controlled high: the tension lives in what's held back.

The texture is close and uncluttered, low ceiling, no reverb wash to hide in, which makes the drop-outs do the real work. It's a mid-set record for me — the gear change between deeper and harder, or the point where a room needs a lean rather than a lift. Not one to overplay; three or four times a night and the floor keeps answering.