The B-side barely pulls itself up off the floor, dragged down by the weight of its own furtive atmosphere. Careful interplay between expertly sequenced live drums and sleepy sub pulses dances atop a background of half-heard sounds for a luxurious 11 minutes that recall the Moritz Von Oswald Trio's finest moments. Indeed, the sense of a performance by a band responding to each other's gestures is notably vivid for a work produced by an individual.
The same is true of the title track. "Even 11" is far more fleet-footed, despite having only a blunted sub with a soft attack in place of a punchy kick drum. But this is part of the reason why there's so much space to play with—a throb rather than a smack gives the percussion more relative impact and the vocal samples more presence. The groove feels far more liquid as a result, and Dygas teases out the tension for an impossibly long period, touching on electro, breakbeat and minimal flavours along the way. There's no single moment of release (though the 808 hi-hats dropping around the five-minute mark come close), but the journey is a rare pleasure.