The A-side starts quickly, plotting out a course for darker pastures before a ramshackle organ lick arrives to save the day. It provides relief, but it does so despite itself. Once you run into its careening path, with sparks appropriately flying everywhere each time it attempts to turn, it becomes easier to love, and easier to discard from a DJ's perspective. I lean toward the latter, as its hook leavens the unrelenting percussion track underneath it.
That same organ finds its way onto the B-side, this time bubbling around in uneasy tandem with the similar raw techno beat that EQD favors. Like its predecessor on the A-side, there's a sense that things could fall apart at any moment throughout its length. And that's exactly the appeal. Wondering whether or not you're going to get to the end of those eight bars—and what will happen after that—is what makes techno of this variety so vital. It's also why Shed is currently among its most celebrated producers.