Not unlike 2009's "Otherworldly," the title track shows off Watson's penchant for heavily artificial sounds. From the acidic bassline that underscores the track, to the digitised squeals that shimmer faintly above, there's no hint of his deep house influences. Structurally, things feel less than organic too. Upon introducing new elements to the mix, Watson subtracts something else, sliding as series of linear loops over the top of one another in order to create dramatic builds and breaks. For techno, it's pretty anthemic, especially during the extended breakdown, when he unleashes a twinkly bell-like melody and slowly boosts the power of a swirling pad before dropping the beat again.
"Flux" has a similar sense of urgency, but it's less intense this time, employing more sedate hats. It's also decidedly minimal in comparison, leading almost solely with a repetitive cluster of cheerful arpeggiated notes. While "Atom" is all about bouncing layers off one another, this seems a deliberate step in the opposite direction, gradually morphing what's already there to create a hypnotic, encapsulating track. Last comes "Kaleidoscope," the musical equivalent of a sad wave goodbye. While the other two are bouncy and club-oriented, this is emotional and tender. The claps have been stripped down to every fourth—rather than second—beat, languorous pads hover in the background and a collage of melody competes for the ear. Simply put: it's beautiful. That said, there's unfortunately nothing revolutionary here, in any of the tracks.