There are plenty of descriptors you could apply to Don Froth, but "single-minded" isn't one of them. The LA producer's past experiments have touched on homespun sci-fi boogie, sunny house, lumpen dubstep hybrids and more. Recent releases for the WNCL imprint have seen a more coherent style emerge, but still it's one based on wanderlust: dense, hyperactive house music, all swing and edit, breakbeats flying every which way. The results can be messy but they're certainly never dull.
This four-tracker, though, features some of Froth's most DJ-friendly productions to date. The title track gives an admirable display of vigour but is actually considerably more measured than the producer's past work, its compact bump playing host to sleazy vocal samples, tense pads and a silken acid line. It's a pleasant enough affair but lacks the armloads of ambition found elsewhere in Froth's discography. "VAP" is aggier, and its midpoint drop—a barrage of saturated delays and distorted kick drums—is hilariously quixotic, even if the payoff doesn't quite merit the expense.
Elsewhere, a similar story: the titular monologue of guarded stomper "Tunnelvision" spars with cavernously reverbed diva pronouncements, while "Untitled B" sees Froth drop drunken swells of noise over his trademark shuffle. Ironically, Anthony 'Shake' Shakir provides the kind of hectic breakbeat-led rendition of "Reflex" we might have expected from Froth in the first place. Of course, Shake has considerable form in this department, and his reworking is as densely inventive as you might expect. Froth has done well to keep his output in a restless state of flux thus far in his career, but the Reflex EP is an unexciting—if by no means inadequate—addition to his discography.