After docile keys lull you into a false sense of security, Parrish starts to float aimlessly, notelessly on "Space Station" before introducing the bassline and drums that will take you on the rest of your way. The track sounds a bit like one: While the tune clearly owes its heritage to acid house, the fidelity of the recording and the effects placed on each element is decidedly otherworldly. It could just as easily be pounded out as a skull-numbing set-changing rocker, or played as background music at your next (hip, techno-inclined) dinner party. That's all in the EQing, I suppose, and it's something that Parrish has always been known to use/abuse ably.
The B-side is something else altogether. Suitable for last calls for alcohol and T-Pain karaoke sessions, Danny Banks' vocals are filtered through Auto-Tune. (At least I think they are.) It's hard to know what to make of this, but Parrish's marijuana-soaked stutter soul backing has enough funk for you to ignore categorization and simply enjoy the show. Yet another essential package from one of electronic music's most unpredictable artists.