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Yally is a new project from Raime, designed to "explore bass futures indiscriminately". With a deep blue, skunked-out appeal right on the lip of late 90's garage and early 00's grime, London's dankest duo compound, reflect and relieve the choking intensity of their recent second album Tooth on the paranoid bruiser Burnt and its dread inversion Sudo, making up their most 'floor-dedicated session in more than five years of operations.
Toeing a line in the shadows between nervy but enervated, crushed and high, both cuts transpose the indelible impression of raving in a very different London landscape - pre-smoking ban and extreme financial bifurcation - with a patently shocking sense of economy and pressure that feels as vitally subversive as ever in the face of current capitalist realism.
Drawn from muscle memory of 2-step's transition from champagne-soaked knees-up into paradoxically dense but spacious, stoned and impending sound designs, they form a sort of coming-to-terms with that epoch's innovations in much the same way that their Moin releases firmly grappled with inextinguishable influence from the studio genius of Steve Albini and This Heat.
Yally is a new project from Raime, designed to "explore bass futures indiscriminately". With a deep blue, skunked-out appeal right on the lip of late 90's garage and early 00's grime, London's dankest duo compound, reflect and relieve the choking intensity of their recent second album Tooth on the paranoid bruiser Burnt and its dread inversion Sudo, making up their most 'floor-dedicated session in more than five years of operations.
Toeing a line in the shadows between nervy but enervated, crushed and high, both cuts transpose the indelible impression of raving in a very different London landscape - pre-smoking ban and extreme financial bifurcation - with a patently shocking sense of economy and pressure that feels as vitally subversive as ever in the face of current capitalist realism.
Drawn from muscle memory of 2-step's transition from champagne-soaked knees-up into paradoxically dense but spacious, stoned and impending sound designs, they form a sort of coming-to-terms with that epoch's innovations in much the same way that their Moin releases firmly grappled with inextinguishable influence from the studio genius of Steve Albini and This Heat.
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