Dillinger by Fabio Neural, Alex Costa & Alessan Main: A Techno Joyride That Sticks
If you're into the kind of music that makes your brain feel like it's vibrating at 140 BPM, then Dillinger is probably already on your radar. Released in 2015 via Intec Digital (a label that knows its techno onions), this UK-born gem from Fabio Neural, Alex Costa, and Alessan Main dives deep into the electronic abyss with a sound so raw it feels like they recorded it in an underground bunker. Spoiler alert: I loved it.
Let’s talk tracks. First up, “Sinus.” This one hits you right in the chest—like when someone cranks up the bass in their car stereo next to you but way cooler. The beat builds slowly, teasing you with these eerie synths before exploding into this relentless groove. It’s hypnotic, man. Like, you could lose hours just zoning out to it. I remember playing this track late at night while staring blankly at my ceiling, wondering if aliens were trying to communicate through the rhythm. Maybe they were. Who knows?
Then there’s the title track, “Dillinger.” If “Sinus” is the moody introvert, “Dillinger” is the life of the party—the type of tune that makes you want to throw all your furniture out of the window and start dancing on the bare floorboards. The kick drum is sharp enough to cut glass, and those glitchy stabs? Pure ear candy. There’s something about how it switches gears halfway through—it’s like the song suddenly remembers it has somewhere important to be and takes off running. You can’t help but chase after it.
And yeah, okay, there’s also “Disclosure,” which rounds things out nicely. But honestly, for me, it’s those first two tracks that stick around like gum on a shoe. They’re not perfect, sure. Sometimes the drops feel a bit too eager, and maybe the melodies drift off into outer space without warning. But isn’t that what makes techno fun? It’s supposed to mess with your head a little.
Here’s the thing: listening to Dillinger felt less like hearing an album and more like stepping into some alternate dimension where time bends and everyone speaks in beats per minute. By the end of it, I wasn’t even mad that my cat had knocked over my coffee cup during “Dillinger”—because hey, even chaos fits here.
So, would I recommend this album? Absolutely. Just don’t blame me if you find yourself daydreaming about becoming a DJ or naming your future kid “Techno.” Oh, and side note: whoever said the UK only exports tea and sarcasm clearly hasn’t heard this record. Cheers to that!
