Sleep Underwriter has collaborated with the Aduaine record label of Dublin, Ireland to craft an album that behaves like a mischievous algorithm with a caffeine habit. The Hexadecimal Era is braindance in the most literal sense: it bangs on your skull with clever percussion, then slips a velvet glove of spastic melody over the bruise. The record prefers to trip you up, grin, and then hand you a new rhythm to figure out. It’s energetic without being exhausting and consistently inventive in ways that reward both the dancer and the person who likes to overanalyze drum fills at 2 in the morning.
From the album’s opening it announces its intentions: move fast, think faster, and expect the unexpected. The drums are tight and mischievous, often sounding like they’ve been taught to speak in tongues and then given a megaphone. Underneath the percussion there’s a steady braindance spine that keeps the record coherent; around that spine, Sleep Underwriter stitches in acid squiggles, detuned plucks, and vintage vibrato leads that wobble like a memory trying to remember its own punchline. The result is music that feels composed and improvised at the same time, like a choreographed drunken stumble.
The production is tactile and slightly weathered, the kind of sound that suggests hardware was lovingly abused rather than politely sampled. Detuned saws and warbly synths give the tracks a woozy warmth, while pulse wave basses and plucky string-like synths add a brittle, almost nervous energy. Acid elements appear like prank calls from a relative you both love and distrust; they’re loud, a little too bright, and they make everything else sound more interesting. There’s a human hand behind the glitches here —- these are not sterile experiments but small acts of mischief with purpose.
“Brock” kicks the record off like a feral arcade cabinet: breakneck, hybrid, and unapologetically aggressive in a way that feels affectionate rather than hostile. “Mud” follows with hi-energy drums and a melody that’s gloriously wrong, like a funhouse mirror after a spicy meal; it’s disjointed in the best possible sense. “Unstuck” leans into bass and vintage vibrato, a jittery track that feels like a synth trying to recall a dream. “Prtkt Nrth” opens mellow and then drops into a deep groove with an acid twist, a track that sneaks up on you and then insists you nod along. “Ionic Rocket” starts with an electro sprint before settling into pulsewave bass and detuned plucks that make your spine check its schedule. “Contentham” is the bodydance moment of the album, a conspiratorial drum groove that convinces your feet to move even if your brain objects. “Bow Swing” plays with timing in a way that makes clocks nervous, soft warbling synths creating an atmosphere that’s deliciously off-kilter. “Tranq Wars” is fast and focused, using tom fills like punctuation marks that demand attention. “Rech” closes with busy, braindancy drums and woozy saw waves that leave you teetering on the edge of sanity in the most satisfying way.
This album is full of tiny, mischievous details that reveal themselves slowly. On first pass it’s a kinetic, slightly-disorienting bit of braindance; on the fifth pass it’s a carefully constructed machine of oddities and hooks. The mood is restless and playful rather than dour or clinical, and the record’s off-kilter charm makes it feel alive—like a living patchwork of ideas that refuse to be tidy. It’s the kind of music that will make you grin, scratch your head, and then press play again. It’s also the type of music that has instantly put Sleep Underwriter and Aduaine on our future radar.
This is braindance with a personality: clever, slightly unhinged, and physically persuasive. Sleep Underwriter has crafted a record that sidesteps clichés and refuses to be comfortable, and that refusal is perhaps the album’s greatest strength. If you want electronic music that will keep you alert, make your feet suspiciously cooperative, and reward curiosity, then The Hexadecimal Era is your new best friend. If you demand your beats to behave like civil servants, this album will annoy you in the most delightful way. For everyone else, it’s a small, charmingly unstable machine that insists you pay attention, and then pats you on the head for being such a good boy.
The Hexadecimal Era by Sleep Underwriter released 10 April 2026 on Aduaine