"Contortion" bursts out of the stocks. Then A Sagittariun's creeping dreamscape emerges—all rheumy, bleeping and cosmic—to stop us in our tracks. The track courses on dreamily, tangled up with some clacking snares that anchor it to the dance floor. Five minutes in and the melody percolates out of the mist, though it's almost drowned out by a long drone. The last minute plays out unhindered, and yet the wondrous befuddlement remains.
"Concrete Walls" is more to the point. Booming kicks, fidgety hi-hats and Detroit-esque chords abound, until A Sagittariun switches into dream mode and things start to warp and stretch. It's like a psychedelic filter is applied, which could spoil the mix but ends up making it more potent. Contortion / Concrete Walls is another trippy triumph for A Sagittariun.