Album Review: Untitled by Northern Powerhouse (2018)
If you’re into electronic music that feels like it was brewed in a dimly lit basement somewhere in Manchester, then Untitled by Northern Powerhouse might just tickle your eardrums. Released back in 2018 under their own label (points for self-reliance!), this UK-born gem dives headfirst into the swirling vortex of Acid, House, and Techno. And yeah, before we go further—shoutout to MarcoAntonio Spaventi for mastering this beast. Dude didn’t mess around.
Now, let’s get one thing straight: Untitled albums are either genius or lazy. This one leans toward genius. It’s not trying too hard to impress you with fancy names or concepts—it lets the tracks do all the talking. Take “Kes Fingers,” for example. You’ll remember this banger because it’s got more groove than your drunk uncle at a wedding disco. The acid squelches slap harder than a soggy tea towel, while the bassline lumbers along like it owns the place. Honestly, I could listen to this on repeat and never get bored—even if my cat gives me judgmental stares.
Another standout is—you guessed it—the track I can’t stop humming but also can’t pronounce properly. Let’s call it Track 4 (because who needs titles when you’ve got vibes?). It starts off subtle, almost shy, but then BAM! The beat drops faster than your resolutions on January 2nd. There’s something hypnotic about how the synths spiral upward, leaving you no choice but to nod along like an overcaffeinated bobblehead doll. If this song were a person, it’d be the life of every party—mysterious yet totally approachable.
What sticks with me most about Untitled isn’t just its banging tunes; it’s the vibe. Listening to it feels like stumbling into a secret rave where everyone knows the password except you—but they let you stay anyway because hey, you brought snacks. It’s raw, unpolished, and refreshingly human—a rare find in today’s sea of overly produced EDM nonsense.
So would I recommend Untitled? Absolutely. Just don’t play it during yoga class unless you want Grandma attempting cartwheels. Final thought: If aliens ever invade Earth and demand proof of our musical worthiness, I’m handing them this album. Either they’ll beam us aboard their spaceship as honorary cosmic DJs…or they’ll blast us out of existence. Either way, win-win, right?
