Dinky's version of techno is lithe and limber, drawing long threads of steady rhythm populated with unpredictable and organic bumps and curves, frequent jazzy diversions and the fizz and blare of arcade noise. Delayed bursts of static, sonar pings and digi-dub pulses show up like Spike Jonze experiments, but they're put to serviceable uses, rarely distracting from strict dance floor function. She achieves this by making the drums big, bulbous things, like Matias Aguayo or, dare I say, Chicago. May Be Later dances between these elements, mixing skittering Chilean techno with low-slung beefy house into a hybrid which is frequently riveting.
With scattered Wurlitzer lines draped lazily over spacious Latin-tinged percussion, opener "Mi Amor" evokes a stoned Cobblestone Jazz, the keys cracked and frayed as though viewed through (and played on) marijuana smoke. "Mars Cello" decays these tones further, with clunky saloon rags turning like rusty cogs over a jacking rhythm—John Cage on Cadenza. Deeper and more solid, "Burdelia" throws in birdsong, congas and spurs, recycles a riff from Daft Punk's "Da Funk" and squirms like Twerk, amounting to a stunningly weird tex-mex thumper. Less successful, "Fademein" recruits Los Updates' man-of-the-moment Jorge Gonzales to talk sex & sleaze, with Iglesias's high-speed hiccups offering an appropriate, if unrewarding, accompaniment.
Throughout, these pieces feel open-ended, with start and finish points seemingly arbitrarily decided, and moving parts left open to observe, like the workings of a clock, creating a loose, elastic funk which is very easily enjoyed. We also get the awkward Big Bully collaboration "She Is Moving," and the incense-and-chai George Harrison sitar chill-out of "No Pressure"—Dinky's experimental foray—but otherwise May Be Later is chock full of kooky techno guaranteed to light fires.