Cobra-like, the title track sways back and forth with deadly intent, moving in for strikes only occasionally. Enthralling as this single, serpentine lead may be, it's not entirely matched by the drums, which feel dutiful rather than possessed. "Latte" swaps out the cobra motif for a pounding organ, one with the barest shadow of Jeff Mills-style mania to it. Other than that, the cut follows a similar style, climbing to lofty peaks before cascading down in rapid steps.
"Mint400" targets a more driving sound, stripping out all vestiges of traditional melody in favour of a constant, factory-like rumble and slinking, metallic percs. Last comes "Charlie," which hinges heavily on one rapid-fire vocal: "Doingdrugs! Sellingdrugs!" As the bass movement has highlighted the past few years, such mantras can be devastatingly effective as instruments in their own right ("Footcrab," anyone?). But this type of intensity—or use of texture—is absent from "Charlie." Angular stabs battle the vocal for supremacy, with neither really getting to shine.