L Delay is all about the drama—but at the same time, its skipping hi-hats and ringing bells suggest a carefree spirit and a supreme lightness of touch. Talk about a duality: a cloak of reverb sucks the track perennially towards the dark side, but from the gleeful syncopations to the cheekily sampled live instruments, everything else opens up to the light like a morning yoga position. There s no funny business here, just tight rhythms and emphatic phrases that command bodies to move. Its a monster of a track, but it must be of the Loch Ness variety, because youll never see it coming. On the flip, >Frost< —haunted by the same high, lonesome string note as >L delay<— might be even more energetic, if that s possible. The high end has been smoothed down, and some of the roughhewn Chicago edge of its companion tune sanded smooth, but its crazily syncopated standup bass line and distant, answering keyboards is all muscle, tensed and ready to explode. Spacious drum tracks clear the floor for flashes of tambourine and handclaps so dry you can taste the salt on em. Again, no nonsense is the name of the game: just raw, unadulterated funk with an ear for playful rhythms and limber moves