Downtempo and chill-out masters Bent return on sparkling form with this latest EP for Ministry of Sound. Whereas "I Remember Johnny" rocks a jaunty loop that slowly and brilliantly becomes smothered in soft pad chords, "Invisible Pedestrian" owes much more to jazz - breaking down into a killer, raw drum solo at one point before the cloudy keys come back into the mix. Even more wistful and tear-jerking though is the cinematic "Winter", which eschews beats altogether in favour of dubby twinkling textures and swooping strings reminiscent of the seminal Irresistible Force mix of Coldcut's "Autumn Leaves".
Hot Creations recruit Denney jumps form the frying pan and into the fire with his latest EP for London's mythical Ministry Of Sound, the UK's original house institution. This impressive second signing is actually a radio edit of the "Low Frequency" track which was on the EP for Jamie Jones' label. Similar to the original - slightly edited and stripped for playback, of course - it's a house banger with a pop sensibility, where large swirls of bass engulf sexy, playful vocals that'll stick in your mind for hours on end. It's a sure winner, and is bound to sound pretty massive on the ol' sound system.
Ministry Of Sound can always spot a hit from a mile off. One listen to "Chunky" by Format:B and it's clear that they haven't lost their touch yet. Fusing funky tech-house with vintage blues vocals, "Chunky" is a classic pop-house anthem in the making.
CLS - "My Lost Paradise" (feat Eveline) - (5:16) 142 BPM
There's a joke going round the internet about us mere humanoids confusing alien messages as music. Those alien messages are, of course, dubstep. Naturally it's erroneous, and actually quite distressing for the dedicated producers behind the contemporary global club phenomenon, but if it was true, then the The Sounds Of Dubstep Darker 2 would be aliens swearing and saying all sorts of nasty stuff about people's mums. Yup, tracks like Rockwell's warped-but-wonderful wonk-out take of Netsky's "Come Alive" and Koan Sound's trippy timestretches of Danny Byrd's "We Can Have It All" are so filthy they'd make Frankie Boyle blush. 30 offensive pieces of bass science, compiled with commendable attention to detail, this adds a whole dimension to the word rude...