Music

7 phat-phonic, body-rumbling tunes which set the tone for an off-kilter rave

Good things come to those who wait, but some people don’t have time for that. Better things come to those who get on with it and stop fannying around. Basically, I’m saying these 7 phat-phonic, body-rumbling tunes set the tone for an off-kilter rave. If I knew what I was talking about, and you’ve no authority to say that I don’t, this is the aural equivalent of someone shouting, “bloody hell, I think she’s got it!” Too much? Just ‘ave a listen mate. And try doing it in order, OK.

Fair enough, I said “rave”, but this would be a weird deal. It’s like one of those scenarios where you need your own little warehouse, full of the people you actually really like, cheap lagers and bants for days, culminating in the kind of discoteque-come-dirty-house-party that we all know and love. You’ll probably have a laser and a mirror ball. Phat isn’t always a bass thing; it’s a womp-wooomp noise thing that pastes right thick all over the scene. And that’s why you need some bad style speakers for this guy.

A playlist featuring Nolo, Mr. Oizo, Double 99, and others

Passion, Nolo

How about some ’90s claps and choir chords to kick things off? Sure, it’s not exactly a party scene, but it’s a phat vibe. Mellow right in with this frequency cluster and soak up the panning vocals. The noticeable lyric here, “that you are insane”, sets the tone for this buzz—right to the point where they up the high end and fade to black. It sure is weird, but this Icelandic duo aren’t to be missed.

Flat Beat, Mr Oizo

Probs time we got the groove going. You know Quinnan? Yeah, he’s a real jerk-y. Even so, you won’t find anything more horizontal than this—at least, that’s the angle you’ll dance at. Perfectly jarring shards of high end balance out the deep. And that laugh track, all shy in the back, is because it’s hilarious watching people try to hip-sway or hand-swagger to the trailing bass. You know this. It won’t stop you trying though.

Ripgroove, Double 99

Full swing now, friends, and the unmistakable tin and scratch come complimentary to the era. Build it up so you can mix it in. What’s she wailing about? That space. That drop. And then they lace the unnerving note back in, overlaid onto the bass, with so much urgency and unspent tension. The etiquette of rave.

Head And Shoulders, Leftfield & Sleaford Mods

If you’re not into weird, you’d better leave now. With a balloon, screeching out and eke-ing out it’s one and only breath, this phats up right quick. “I saw that”, he says. Double-t your “basket-T” and get ready for a mind-meld of verbal assault, a commentary on British culture in the ’90s to the back-tune of ambiance, deep rumbles, and the ever-dying party balloon. “I’ve got my touch on!” Absolutely unmissable to meltdown to.

Open Eye Signal, Jon Hopkins

It sounds like reprieve, but it’ll soon get back to pounding you with sound. That’s promised straight up in those tentative snares turning stomp by stomp into a subtle militia of heavy buzz. There aren’t enough synonyms for the girth of this phat, layered with ethereal promise, marching you deep down in. Like the hands in the lake or willow the wisp, you’re just beckoned on in with gentle regiment. If it were a clichéd painting, it’d be yin yang or an angel and a devil, but it’s so much more sophisticated and complex than that. It metamorphs, more subtly than the Gregor-beetle ever did, never losing a clear destination in mind: to send you right into that classic trance. Nothing matters here.

These Nights Never End, Daniel Avery

This isn’t even going to pretend. The lure’s right there. Clouds of background portend the sweeping grey sounds. The claps and the claps get you going but it’s that perfect—that entirely perfect—divine alternate decay on the symbol, which signals the apprehension: you never want to leave. There’s almost an alarm. And then that melody scrapes you altogether, renders you completely incapable of letting go. The string wave adds to the strain, and thunder begins again. One word is uttered, “acid”, and the incredible nightmare endures. Someone’s saying something, but she’s just an echo. It singles out to a beat and a tone. You were there, with friends, all along.

Everything In Its Right Place, Radiohead

Don’t worry about a thing. The only way to end this is to melt out without beats. What was that you tried to say? Doesn’t matter now; the party’s over. Everything’s in its right place. Now go watch the sunrise and get some sleep.

Rowena Harris