Store Street Katabatic Wind by Lockyear: A Sonic Punch to the Gut
Alright, let’s get one thing straight—Lockyear’s Store Street Katabatic Wind isn’t your cozy, sit-by-the-fire techno album. Nah, this sucker slaps you awake like a cold shower at 4 AM. Released in 2016 under OTB Records (UK), it’s a raw, unfiltered dive into experimental house and techno that’ll either leave you buzzing or scratching your head. Either way, you won’t forget it.
First off, the track “Store Street.” Man, this tune hits hard right outta the gate. It’s got this gritty bassline that feels like someone’s dragging an industrial saw across your eardrums—but in the best way possible. The kicks are punchy as hell, and there’s this weird little synth riff that pops up halfway through that just doesn’t quit. You know those tracks where you’re not sure if it’s genius or just plain nuts? Yeah, this is both. It sticks with you because it doesn’t try too hard to be likable. Instead, it demands attention, like some pissed-off bouncer outside a club.
Then there’s “Katabatic Wind” (the first version—not the remix). This one’s darker, moodier, almost hypnotic. Imagine walking down an empty alley late at night while paranoia sets in—that’s what this track sounds like. The beat builds slowly, layering these icy tones over pounding drums until it feels like the whole thing might collapse on itself. But it never does. That tension keeps you hooked, man. Every time I hear it, I’m reminded why techno can feel so damn alive even when it’s stripped-down and mechanical.
Look, Lockyear ain’t here to hold your hand or make polite dinner party music. This album's rough edges scream DIY ethos, which makes it feel realer than most polished crap flooding playlists today. If you wanna zone out, skip this. But if you’re craving something that challenges your ears and messes with your brain? Hit play.
Here’s the kicker though: after listening to this record, I couldn’t help but think how much cities must influence sound. Like, could Lockyear have made this anywhere else besides the UK? Something about its relentless energy screams urban grit. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it. Who knows? All I do know is, next time I walk past a dimly lit street, I’ll probably hear echoes of Store Street Katabatic Wind.
