Outside of some errant Japanese and European films with a long-abiding love of giallo, I couldn't really watch horror movies until I was thirty. Considering that some Sesame Street sketches would paralyze me with an especially potent form of free-floating anxiety, it's safe to say I don't handle anticipation very well on top of having a cleverly terrifying subconscious (if my dreams are anything to go on). As much as finally hitting a Beneath track I truly love in that special kinda way warrants a discussion of this stylistic change in his output--with his recent Mistry twelve seeing a refined return to his inimitable brand of bassline-driven, cross-genre productions--the sustained panic attack I've been enduring for what feels like the past two weeks is leaving me in an uncharacteristically terse mood. Then again, I'll probably add two more paragraphs in the morning...or not. Depression is a bitch.
Despite being wholly of the moment as it's one of the recent UK twelves that tends to get the biggest reaction in my own mixes despite its half-step kick pattern, when parsing out its constituent elements, "Seeus" plays like a contemporary take on the darkcore formula of combining a menacing vocal sample and sustained bass pressure with pounding drum breaks and ominous pads. Yet, while some older critics might simply hear the same old sounds in new ways, I have never heard anything quite like it in my twelve-plus years of obsessively listening to dance music. Where most of the tracks we've analyzed have featured intros of typically one to two-minutes, drum patterns and sonic elements moving about before snapping into order, here the producer shows off a deft air for the type of radio static/arctic ambient that would make Thomas Köner or Tod Dockstader proud. The principle vocal sample is sporadically uttered in the back of the mix, the static fog clearing way for a quick slice-and-dice before those drums come thundering in over a post-Inception bass drop. For the next five minutes, Beneath expertly works within a tension-filled dynamic, expertly tweaking and differentiating the different channels while steadily building an inimitable dread-filled atmosphere that will make you almost giggle in response to how hard this track truly bangs (it’s like the Fright Night of bass bobblers). The post-tribal drums and stop-and-start rhythmic engine are just one of the many elements that, for me, transcends the easy “techno" or "bass" music descriptors favored by most critics. But like a genuinely scary movie, all the fun lies in the utter, unbridled terror conjured up over the duration of the record's A side.