To hit play on femtanyl’s “KATAMARI” is to be sucked right into a wormhole of mad breaks and robotic cries that counsel a malfunctioning 5 Nights at Freddy’s animatronic. “Bruises on my neck/Only a doll of flesh/You will discover my smoking physique hung in wires overhead,” the voice whines, glitching like a pc with malware in a 1996 sci-fi film. It is a feral simulacra of old-skool rave music, made by a producer born after the scene’s golden age ended and who probably grew up tapped into already diluted tributes to hardcore electronica, like Machine Lady. Actually feral: Although not a furry herself, femtanyl’s fanbase is filled with them; she’s collaborated with furry artists like MAILPUP, and her covers characteristic a gleefully disfigured cat-like creature—knives within the brow and cheek; pancake flat from a spike ball—named Token.
The on-the-bloodied-nose mayhem of the music—rife with cannibalism references and overclocked synths—has made the 21-year-old equally beloved and reviled. Haters say it’s grating noise, however that’s simply made her followers much more steadfast, giving “femtanyl truther” the standing of a marginalized id. “Lately it might be simpler to come back out as homosexual than to come back out as a femtanyl fan,” as one common meme jokes. But it surely’s not that severe. Rising above the vitriol alongside a rising wave of breaks-heavy rave producers like Vertigoaway and DJ Kuroneko, femtanyl could lastly be the one to convey digital hardcore to the plenty.
REACTOR is femtanyl’s second EP, the follow-up to final yr’s CHASER, a relentless hamster wheel of power. Almost each beat revolves round chattering percussion, peaky synths, and stabs straight out of 1992. The idea of “unfavourable area” has been annihilated; garbled cries of people that pontificate their nuts inundate the combination alongside atmospheric samples like baleful monologues from The Exorcist III. Virtually each tune feels prefer it might soundtrack a Ridge Racer degree; the treble sounds made for aliens who can solely hear at excessive frequencies.
Within the tape’s least dynamic and most forgettable moments, the formulaic hardcore rave muddle has the identical placeless, amorphous essence that Nintendo offers its Mario bossa nova tunes. However REACTOR principally intoxicates, due to the intense, infectious synth loops with hooks as sharp as pop jingles. They irradiate and conflict with the darkish witches’ coven of unsettling vocal types lurking beneath, from metallic howls to echoing warbles. The jittery sandstorm of “WEIGHTLESS” virtually drowns femtanyl’s screams. It took me quite a few replays to understand this music wasn’t a happy-go-lucky joyride. It’s extra like onerousgore breaks.