The festival begins at dusk. Paper lanterns sway above narrow streets glazed with rainwater and cooking oil. Crowds press shoulder to shoulder beneath red banners while somewhere in the distance a drum troupe rattles the wooden beams of the old city awake. Two rival kung fu masters stand on opposite sides of the celebration, each pretending calm while quietly measuring the other’s every movement. Behind them, servants carry lacquered masks, silk robes, ceremonial weapons, and impossible grudges stretching back decades. This is the world Farron drops the listener into on Human Lanterns, his latest EP release for Shaw Cuts, and thankfully the music fully commits to the violence, paranoia, and theatrical tension of the story.
“We Are The Wave” arrives like the opening clash between rival schools in the center of the festival square. The drums do not glide into place. They charge recklessly into the scene with elbows raised and teeth bared while distorted bass tears through the middle of the track like a rusted blade dragged across a sworn enemy’s ribcage. Farron keeps threading soft, flute-like tones through the chaos, giving the track brief flashes of moonlight cutting through smoke before another punch lands. Everything feels unstable and overheated. You can practically see dancers stomping across wet pavement while lantern-ash drifts through the air around them.
“Switch Odd” feels like the entrance of the rogue artisan hired to construct Master Lung’s masterpiece lantern. The beat begins with disciplined footing before suddenly twisting itself sideways into broken rhythmic attacks and thick bass surges that hit like body blows to the mid-section. The low end on this track is massive. It rolls forward with the heavy confidence of somebody who already knows how the fight ends. Small percussion details flicker around the edges like hidden knives appearing from inside sleeves. Farron gives the track just enough swing and movement to keep the entire thing loose and dangerous.
By the time “GX100” begins, the story has turned ugly. The opening percussion stalks forward alone for nearly a full minute like footsteps echoing through empty corridors while the city sleeps. Then the synths begin appearing in strange jagged flourishes, screeching and curling around the drums like panic spreading through crowded streets after news of a killing reaches the festival. Farron slowly thickens the track with heavier pads and denser rhythm layers until the entire thing feels swollen with dread. This is the sound of rival masters accusing one another while servants whisper behind closed doors and armed men search alleyways carrying lanterns through the fog.
“Talking To Them” explodes into pursuit. Chopped vocal fragments bounce through the track like shouted commands during a rooftop chase while the drums pound underneath with relentless momentum. The bass rolls hard and low, pushing everything forward as if the entire city has broken into a sprint. Farron keeps tightening the screws throughout the track, layering tension on tension until the music feels like a confrontation taking place inches from a drawn blade. The track ends with the feeling that somebody escaped into the darkness and the hunt will continue tomorrow night.
Farron merges broken hybrid techno with cinematic storytelling soul here. The rhythms themselves carry the aggression. The bass lines carry the rivalry. The fractured percussion carries the motive and the melodies, the intrigue and revenge. Even the quieter atmospheric moments feel loaded with danger, like somebody watching from behind a shiny red silk curtain, waiting for the right moment to strike. Human Lanterns leaves behind the smell of smoke, sweat, wet stone, and burned wiring. Farron turns broken techno into a martial arts revenge tale full of tension and movement, and he does it without losing sight of the dance floor. The EP hits hard, stays lean, and keeps its blade sharp from beginning to end.
Human Lanterns by Farron was released 4 May, 2026 exclusively on Shaw Cuts
