Released Mar 2022

I hear Pacific Rhythm’s signature in the groove: 115 BPM of emotive, organic deep house pressure in 6A warmth.

A sleek, hook-laden missile of indie dance pressure that earns its Exploited stripes without breaking a sweat.

Industrial-strength techno pressure at 136 BPM; functional, relentless, and built for sweat-drenched 4 AM floors.

Intricate, high-voltage techno at 130 BPM; Skee Mask builds a precision-engineered pressure chamber for the floor.

A lean, chrome-plated shoulder-check at 118 BPM that snaps the grid into venomous focus.

Tough, swung UKG pressure at 133 BPM, built for basement sweat and strobe-lit abandon.

Relentless 125-BPM D minor pressure turns my booth into a sweatbox; pure, uncut after-hours hypnosis.

I’d call this blackened 125 BPM melancholia that turns after-hours dread into major-key catharsis.

A slow-burning, high-tension ritual that grips the room at a hundred BPM, pure late-night electricity from the leftfield.

A utilitarian steamroller at 125 BPM that sacrifices melody for sheer dancefloor torque.

A bruising 140bpm electro barrage that drags the basement through broken glass and strobelight.

A heavyweight ambient stepper draped in dub weight, built for peak-time rooms where 146 BPM pressure and bass dread collide.

Maximum-energy progressive breaks at 122 that turn the after-hours into a bass-weighted hypnosis.

Sixty-BPM dread rendered with crushing weight; a late-night weapon that drags the room into slow-motion paranoia.

Narcotic half-time at 150 BPM, a heavy-lidded 8-energy throb built for the after-hours dissolution.

I’d call this a relentless 130-BPM hypnosis session that turns the club into a pressure cooker of raw, deep sonics.

Relentless 140-BPM hypnosis that seals the floor in an 8A chokehold.

A slow-burning, high-voltage ambient closer that turns the room into a held breath.

A restrained progressive breaks cut that trades bombast for quiet introspection, still commanding the floor at 125 BPM.

Leftfield hypnosis at 107 BPM: slow, tasteful, and too club-credible to stay in the booth.

I’d pull this when the room demands KOC’s leftfield psychedelia welded to a 125 BPM chassis.

A minor hypnosis at 120 BPM: melodic depth weaponised for peak-time tension without sacrificing its organic soul.

Anatolian Weapons twists the original into a humid, slow-burning hypnosis that feels like 3 a.m. in a room full of strangers becoming friends.

An electro-tinged indie strut at one-oh-two that hides its off-kilter wiring behind a friendly title.