[4] Girl Unit, ‘Wut’

Girl Unit

This is called ‘Wut’, I say. “What?” ‘Wut’. “What?” Well, you get the idea with that. Succumbing to the dreamy, synthy shards, Junior lies starshaped on the rug, slowly rising to play musical statues with her sister before everything descends into tickling. That’s a warm response to an icy record.

It’s a slippery customer, dubstep. I mean, let’s take it on trust that that’s what Girl Unit (Philip Gamble’s somewhat best-not-examined nom de plume) is peddling. You could easily call ‘Wut’ techno (the relaxed variety), pop (that hook is HUGE), even R&B now that categories are so fluid and the best producers are shaping a sound ever more futurist and ever less bassy. Still, yes, this will be pegged as a dubstep exemplar, but let’s shove aside circular arguments about genre because ‘Wut’ stands and falls as a towering, shrill beacon of space-age head-fuckery (sorry, just invented another one). It’s forbidding, nagging, ever so catchy down to its stockinged feet, and festive too – that mysterious four-note chime could soundtrack Kay opening the Box of Delights. In my head. If this is the future, top up my Oyster card.

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