Here, though, they produce an entrancing thirteen minutes of meandering post-rock, eeking power from the melodic and rhythmic simplicity in a way that could work nicely as an innovative centrepiece to a warm and playful club set akin to Apparat's recent DJ-Kicks. The kick is constant, and the drums clatter and roll. Well, the first half would work at least, pattering and proud like the start of a crusade, but then after a throbbing lull, the second half sighs like the bittersweet aftermath of a battle that changed everything, evoking hope and regret at the same time.
Hebden obviously thinks the two-part structure is a good idea, because he keeps it but applies a massive growling bassline and stonker of a kick, aiming squarely for dance floor decimation. That's a pretty surprising phrase to be used in reference to Hebden, even considering his lean towards clubbiness of late. Other features are more familiar: a shiny and sturdy analogue riff quirking its way throughout, the choppy acoustic drums strapped straight in from the original and trademark oscillating toned wooden percussion. It doesn't change as much as the original though; it seems some things at least are too experimental for him where the club is concerned (as usual, this is a double-edged sword). Like the original, however, it brings the wandering prog-out up to date in a way that's both nostalgic and refreshing.