Burial's tracks tend to evoke narratives around the club rather than inviting club use themselves. The same goes for "Pre Dawn," which depicts one of those semi-coherent nights out that picks up a terrifying momentum as it goes. The track's thunderous drums clock in circa 140 BPM and the melody howls like an arctic gale. The deathly energy grows, but so does the smothering layer of crackle and hiss. It's as if the dance floor experience has got so intense you've started to dissociate—the body is battered by sound, the brain glitches and partially shuts down. Eventually "Pre Dawn" becomes dawn, and a grand synth passage enters, fizzing with nervous exhaustion. A voice sums it up: "Late at night… the energy… take me to the dream world."
"Indoors" is a weaker take on the same idea. This time the melody comes from a wordless singer, and the daybreak moment from cheesy piano chords. A chipmunked vocal loop heightens the track's death drive, but somehow the whole thing doesn't quite gel. Over a decade into his career, Burial is still chasing those moments where his strange sound collages fit together like puzzle pieces of the sublime. Sometimes he manages it, sometimes not.