Despite the firm and regimented kicks—these will do damage on a dance floor—there's an expansiveness in the soaring synths, pinging cowbells, horns and whatever else that keeps things human, mysterious and even cerebral. Your mind wanders on tracks like "Music Industry" as deep space ambiance osmoses through dusty drum work, while the constantly shapeshifting "Next Time" is a dense and gauzy network of warbling 303s and clipped 808s that manages to sound simultaneously serious yet serene.
You might initially think the reverbing rubber pings of "Sound Love" could be the start of a more stripped back offering. But the spaces soon get coloured in, this time with an echoing female coo and smeared celestial pads. That rawness fully boils over on closer "Mile End"—the most warehouse-y of the lot—but still a fuzzy warmth remains.