Big City by 7air: A Hard Trance Time Capsule That’ll Mess With Your Brain (In a Good Way)
Let’s get one thing straight—2008 wasn’t exactly the golden age of subtlety. It was the year of neon sneakers, financial meltdowns, and music that slapped harder than your grandma’s potato salad recipe. Enter Big City, an album by 7air that feels like it was brewed in some underground rave laboratory. Released under Ocean Drive Records, this hard trance beast is unapologetically American, which might explain why it hits harder than most European counterparts at the time.
The title track, “Big City,” is basically the poster child for what happens when you let synthesizers run wild on Red Bull. The beat punches you in the face right outta the gate, but instead of feeling assaulted, you’re weirdly into it. There’s something hypnotic about how the layers build up—it’s like watching a city skyline light up after sunset. By the time the drop kicks in, you’ve forgotten where you are or what day it is. And honestly? That’s kind of the point. This isn’t background music; it’s front-and-center chaos designed to make your pulse race.
Another standout is “Neon Streets” (or whatever they called it—I lost the tracklist during my third listen). If “Big City” is the main event, this one’s the afterparty. It’s got this relentless energy that just doesn’t quit, with a bassline so thick it could double as cement. I kept replaying the breakdown section because it felt like someone took all my stress, chopped it into tiny pieces, and turned it into pure adrenaline. Not bad for a Tuesday afternoon playlist addition.
What makes Big City stick in my brain isn’t just its ability to melt faces—it’s the vibe. You can tell these guys weren’t trying to reinvent the wheel here. They were too busy having fun smashing it into little bits and welding it back together into something louder, faster, and shinier. Sure, there are moments where it veers dangerously close to sensory overload, but hey, sometimes life needs a bit of overkill.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to this album now feels like stepping into a time machine that only goes forward. It’s nostalgic without being lazy, futuristic without taking itself too seriously. And honestly, if more albums today had even half the guts Big City does, we’d all be living in a much cooler version of reality. Or maybe just stuck in traffic with better soundtracks. Who knows?
So yeah, give this one a spin if you’re ready to trade subtlety for sledgehammers. Just don’t blame me if your neighbors start filing noise complaints.
