Arid landscapes that swallow up rhythms.
This mournful moment is the closest thing the EP has to a resolution. Elsewhere it's all lingering questions. "Flying Wingback" is an icy synth prelude thick with dread. "Bedlam, '92" hints at a spooky rave reboot before subsiding teasingly after 80 seconds. And "Tropic Flame" is two minutes of scuzzy downpitched loop, of the sort heard on Actress's Ghettoville. "Jungle Image" is the most striking of the lot. It sounds like one of Shed's gauzy breakbeat tracks with a dose of David Lynch: the euphoria turned dark, the drums drunk and stumbling. Gated synths flicker and hiss like flames, and snatches of phone chatter pass through the gloom: "Hello..?" Nervous laughter. "Next question."