The most solid, rigid metallic-alloyed display of deconstructed club music I have ever heard
from the earliest aisles of glitchy electronica shit comes some springy bullshit from Errorsmith, one of the goofiest names ever. this is just a minimal beat-driven smorgasbord of springy fuck, with a lot of delay effects going on and a lot of pointed single moments of sound design brilliance. sure you could call the compositions half-baked, surely you could do that in fact, but actually I think this style has its own charm despite having no popular appeal at all.
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| 50% | like this album |