Most of the EP scuds along on a furtive pulse. On "Corner" it's in the synth arps, clambering over each other like spiders while background textures grow to a dull roar. "Undercurrent"'s dry tones throb and hum to a more neutral tune. And the brighter "Artus" is almost playful, its sour metallic tones ping-ponging across a broader drone space. The track develops a subtle shuffle as it goes, which leads nicely into "Who's That Born," the closest thing to a dance track from a producer known for his work with techno legends. Not that you'll be hearing this on too many dance floors: its electro-ish groove is sluggish and smeared, nudging gloomily under the EP's most downcast bit of melody.
In all this grey, two slightly more expressive tracks stand out. "Heliopolis"'s polysynth tones drift between majesty, sourness and moments of tender optimism, leaving viscous decay trails in their wake. The same reedy sounds return on "Golden Crescent," where after a couple of minutes a rumbling bassline throws their wandering patterns into a redemptive new light. It's a dramatic moment of catharsis, at least by the standards of this humble EP.