Surprisingly, it's Neo Neo Acid which feels the more upbeat of the two albums. Where Recondite's cuts were almost relentlessly desolate and woebegone, Tin Man's insistence on constant percussion adds noticeable brightness. The LP is filled with contrast, dirge-like 303s lifted by sprightly drums and hats. Even the lazier tracks canter rather than crawl. Some are outright pumping. "Devine Acid" plays with pensive overtones, for instance, but its monstrous low-end renders it a dance floor slayer. A similarly hefty thump undergirds "Plastic Arts," where Tin Man teases increasingly long strands of acid from the heaving mass at the track's centre.
However, that's not to say Neo Neo Acid is outright cheerful. "Finger Paint" is a nuanced slice of melancholia, its donging 303 contested by flurries of xylophone―an instrument almost incapable of sadness. "Absurdist Acid" doesn't sound sad so much as it does weary and content; the comfy chair after a long day. Other times, Tin Man is reminiscent of a plastik producer: "Manifesto Acid" evokes the same surrealist mood as 1993's "Plasticity."
Neo Neo Acid bears the hallmarks of a producer utterly at ease with his craft. It's diverse, but doesn't feel like it's straining to be so. The narrative arc is patient, logical and understated. But most importantly, when the album's final bar fades out, there's little doubt left as to the continued validity of making an entire LP of 303-based music, some 25 years after the sound was first discovered.