Hot Gun On The Waist

At any given second of any given day, someone from the American underground of grimy gutter-bound heavy hitters will be releasing new music, most of it certainly samey, but all of it utterly compelling. Right now, this leaps out of the ever-growing pile of menacing murkage, thanks to the production from Camo — the moody Serpico funk touched with sporadic detail designed to unhinge the listener, with dubby little eruptions of vocal, a janglingly recurrent lick of guitar harmonics and scratches that swim out beyond normal space and firmly into an avant-garde zone. As addictive, in its way, as UK drill — same headspace, but from an entirely different soundscape. Essential.