This music hits hard, but that’s precisely why it resonates with me. While it shares the fundamental DNA of dance music – the pulsating beat, the infectious fervour, the boundless energy, even the occasional flirtation with euphoria – Unspoken is a sonic beast with razor-sharp edges, intense beats, dark energies that border on the violent. It’s as if this music is the dancefloor homage to the very gods worshipped by the most relentless of metalheads.

Yet, there’s a form of redemption, at least in the context of the club scene, nestled within its unyielding rhythm. It oscillates between inflicting the heaviest dancefloor demolition and trapping you in a suffocating embrace of digital lament, propelling everything towards the precipice of a sonic abyss. Amidst this labyrinth of cavernous sounds and meticulously controlled chaos, the electronic fragments skimming the surface sway between pregnant silences and the jittery, erratic wails of a thousand sirens trapped within the circuits.

The sound of the last death-disco dance-off before the end of the world? Quite possibly! I’ve got my ticket…have you?

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Musician, scribbler, historian, gnostic, seeker of enlightenment, asker of the wrong questions, delver into the lost archives, fugitive from the law of averages, blogger, quantum spanner, left footed traveller, music journalist, zenarchist, freelance writer, reviewer and gemini. People have woken up to worse.

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