Rezident, Feeling Fades

Rezident’s ‘Feeling Fades’ record is a strange one because it doesn’t feel like it’s trying to impress you. The whole thing moves at its own pace, and for the first few tracks you’re not really sure where it’s going. Then track eight arrives, and it’s the one where the whole thing finally opens up. Everything before it is doing a slow lean into it, and then it just lets go for like ninety seconds and pulls back again.

The track is called ‘Bristol’ and it’s the only moment on the record that feels like it was built for a room full of people. The rest of the album is more headphone music, or early morning listening, but this one has a different kind of pulse. It’s not a big drop, not a festival moment, but there’s a weight to it. The drums have a bit more push, the bassline locks in a little deeper, and the pads start to swell in a way that feels like the sky is clearing.

It also feels like a bit of a statement for where Anjunadeep is heading. The label used to mean one very specific sound, then it drifted for a couple years into whatever, now it feels like it’s snapping back toward the original thing. This one fits that snap back. It’s warm, melodic, a little melancholy, but still functional. It’s the kind of track you could imagine closing a set at a festival as the sun is coming up, or opening one in a dark room where everyone’s just getting into it.

There’s a reason it’s sitting at track eight. You have to earn it. And you do.