The spherical beat of You is a provider of limited solace. It’s the drudge and sheer faithlessness of a trapped mind, the shredded skin of love’s coil, the vibrant drown of senseless compulsion. “You! You! You! You! You! You! You! Me! Me! Me! Me! Me! Me! Me!” The consistent elation of stolen and kept delirium. On an unapologetic loop, sped-voices puncture as many holes into the sphere as the accompanying electronic drums, with a distant circling of hazy three-note melody washing the backdrop. It is the single moment of uncorrupted obsession, dragged out into an underground dance anthem of lights and stolen senses. [Buy, please.]