Bust by Gammer: An Electronic Time Capsule from 2008 That Doesn’t Totally Suck
Alright, let’s talk about Bust, the kinda-forgotten-but-still-cool electronic album by Gammer, released way back in 2008 on Muffin Music. Yeah, you heard me right—Muffin Music. Not exactly a name that screams "legendary label," but hey, they gave this thing a shot, and honestly? It’s better than I expected.
First off, if you’re into glitchy beats, squelchy synths, and drops that feel like someone just kicked over your speaker stack (in a good way), then this album might be up your alley. Gammer was clearly vibing hard with the whole late-2000s EDM explosion, but he wasn’t just phoning it in like some of his peers. Dude had ideas—even if those ideas sounded like they were cooked up during an all-night energy drink bender.
Now, onto the tracks. Track three, “Neon Jungle,” is one I keep coming back to—not because it’s perfect, but because it’s got this weird, stuttering rhythm that feels like your brain trying to process too much caffeine. The melody loops around itself like a cat chasing its tail, and there’s this one breakdown where everything goes quiet except for this tiny little synth chirp. It’s oddly satisfying, like finding money in an old jacket pocket. You weren’t expecting much, but suddenly you’re grinning.
Then there’s track seven, “Static Love.” Oh man, this one hits different. Imagine being at a rave in a dystopian future where everyone’s wearing neon trench coats and dancing like robots who haven’t quite figured out how hips work yet. That’s what this song sounds like. There’s a moment halfway through where the bassline drops out completely, leaving nothing but these haunting pads and a heartbeat kick drum. Feels like the soundtrack to a scene where the hero realizes they’ve made a huge mistake—but also kind of likes it? Weirdly cinematic for something so unapologetically club-ready.
So yeah, Bust. It’s not gonna change your life or anything, but it’s fun in that messy, chaotic way only early internet-era electronica can pull off. Listening to it now feels like revisiting an old MySpace page—you cringe a little, sure, but there’s also this weird nostalgia for a time when things felt simpler, even if they weren’t.
And here’s the kicker: while writing this review, I realized Gammer probably spent more time naming these tracks than I do picking my lunch every day. Hats off to him for commitment, though. If nothing else, Bust proves that sometimes art doesn’t have to take itself too seriously to leave an impression. Now excuse me while I go listen to “Neon Jungle” again and pretend I’m living in a cyberpunk novel.
