Like Mr G, who trades in similarly heavy, loopy material, Hood brings an analogue warmth to his tracks that's deeply seductive. These songs bristle and bounce with irrepressible energy in an almost ghettotech way. Given Hood's readiness to deploy some darkness on his house tunes, it's little wonder that Ben Klock loves this stuff—he used two of these tracks on his fabric mix.
Given all that, it's surprising how well these productions hang together as an album. Despite their repetitiveness, there is real tonal variety here. The punishing techno of "Altered Ego" is very different to the neo-piano house of "Confess," which is totally different to "Never Grow Old." The latter, a real stand-out, is all lilting, jazzy keys, dusty vinyl crackle and lung-busting, uproarious gospel samples—like Moodymann on overdrive.
It's more than just colour, though. At home, headphones clamped on, with Hood's every shift in tone, arrangement and tempo clearly audible, these tracks become something concentrated and vivid. You're drawn in by a minimalist master at work, to the point where, to take "Baby Baby" as an example, the return of a beat, a staccato burst of funk guitar or a truncated surge of brass, become thrilling, seismic events.