After a devastating opening salvo of 19 modernist rave mutations on a double tape pack for Sneaker Social Club, Minder lands on Hypercolour with another 19 cybernetic fever dreams still reeling from the open season NRG of hardcore.

If you need to understand where Minder wants to take you, strap in for the labyrinth narrative of ‘Knotted’, a smudged, 15-minute breakbeat suite barrelling through lurid dystopian street scenes with only a blown-out bass sprite as a guide. Throughout Sanctuary, bass is the constant when all else is chaos. It comes in thick, warped Reese tones on ‘Simulated Hunt’, gets twisted out through angry filters on ‘Popcorn Lover’, comes on wobbly in true 2-step style underneath grimey garage anti-anthem ‘Ard’.

There’s a lot to take in across the spread of Sanctuary. It’s the sound of every rave genre slowly digested over 30-plus years, until the lactic acid metabolises every snare rush, every searing lead line, every chipmunk vocal lick, and everything gets mashed up and spat back out into a gnarly signal chain at the flash point of inspiration. The time taken is key – this is the sound of a life in front of the speaker stack manifesting in something too wild and weird to be derivative. You’ll hear snatches of familiarity thrown into unfamiliar contexts, but for all the detectable lineage, Minder’s sound is unsettling in its originality.

Dislodged ragga jungle techno, muffled hardcore nightmares, hard n’ haggard acid trance, junked up jump up – you could write an essay on the sounds you can spot and the way they’ve been twisted. Aside from the omnipresent low-end, it’s the unflinching honesty of Korron’s repeat appearances on the mic throughout which bring Minder’s disturbing patchwork into focus. For all the futurism attached to these sounds, it’s also caked in a very human filth which can only come from this earth. The roots run deep, and the fruit is rotten, and isn’t that how it should be?