I love music. I love the way it goes in your ears, mills around inside your cranium, elicits emotions from your cynicism, and sometimes resides inside your brain until early onset dementia, or death. As such, I am a total sucker for certain styles and approaches. Trip hop is one that never fails to get me. Feverkin brings all the trip hop. So much that it’s all around my brain like a stripper on a pole: seductive and more than a little filthy.
I don’t know a great deal about Feverkin. A composer/producer from Atlanta, Georgia, she/he self describes the music as: “A noisy cricket in a noisy field.” There is certainly something extremely nocturnal about the producer’s tune craft. “Sinking” proceeds at a leisurely pace with staccato beats periodically interrupting the mournful sampled strings. Guest vocals, provided by Nori, are at times hidden behind echo, and seem to be close but, contradictorily, just out of arm’s reach. It is sunrise.