Whether producing prog house, acid or fierce techno, Norfolk’s Nathan Fake has always enlivened his productions with a healthy dose of weirdness, but he’s never sounded as detached from the dancefloor as he does here. Instead, Fake lets brightly saturated synths and awkward rhythms take centre stage on a strange and dislocated record.

The rapid-fire percussion on the title track bears the hallmarks of footwork and trap, while SmallCityLights seems perpetually on the verge of collapsing. Elsewhere, Fake dispenses with beats altogether, letting his harsh, squalling textures do the heavy lifting instead.

By the time Raphaelle's keening vocals arrive on the excellent RVK, they come as blessed relief from the intense atmosphere. Apparently, the title refers to Fake's relief at the end of two years of writer's block, but rather than being an explosion of joy, Providence takes us down the rabbit hole. nathanfake.com