Shed looks to classic rave on this blistering EP.
While we've heard these formulas from Pawlowitz before, The Core sounds particularly unshackled. He seems incapable of making music that doesn't ooze his distinct personality, but here the sense of joie de vivre is palpable, injecting the familiar with a vital energy. The title track is a metrical minefield that threatens to dislodge dancers, but its overwhelming positivity is offered in a disarmingly sincere fashion. "Stick 3" suggests Pawlowitz should work at high tempos more often—they give his sound a powerful shot in the arm. The psychotic 16th-note sample that enters at the end of the break is the most unhinged moment we've heard from Pawlowitz in recent memory.
The two versions of "Submarine" offer more than we've come to expect, too. The "'99" version thrives on a screwfaced, robo-b-boy swagger that's held down by an insistent, menacing bass donk on the quarter note. But it's eventually cut through with happy chords and chipmunked vocals, touching on the classic hardcore battle of dark vs. light without feeling nostalgic—rather, it's hyper-modern. Another contrast pushes the "'95" take over the edge: after luxuriating in a giant cloud of rave bliss for the first half, we're thrown jagged ninja stars of repitched chords. In Pawlowitz's best work, there's always an interior instability waiting to reveal itself.