I hear WAVESMAN keeping the tempo locked at a breathless 140, turning the kick into a piston that never lifts. The energy is absolute—there is no dip, only a narrowing of focus as filtered synths loop and tighten, pulling the room into that heads-down, four-in-the-morning tunnel vision where bodies move on reflex. It is raw in the best sense: every hi-hat and clap arrives with grit rather than gloss, suggesting concrete dust and stripped brick.
What surprises me is how the key of 10B lends a steely luminosity to the gloom; the tonal centre cuts through the haze just enough to keep the hypnosis from collapsing into monochrome. This is a DJ tool built for the deepest part of the night, demanding you lean forward rather than throw your hands up. I would drop it when the floor is already inside the groove and watch the chain reaction.