A New Future by Reptile: A Gabber Assault That Still Smashes Eardrums
Alright, let’s get one thing straight—Reptile’s A New Future isn’t for the faint-hearted. Released in ‘97 on Malice Records and Death Becomes Me, this hardcore gabber masterpiece hits like a sledgehammer to the skull. If you’re into electronic music but haven’t heard this beast yet, you’re either living under a rock or just too scared to face the noise. Either way, buckle up, because this album doesn’t mess around.
First off, shoutout to Tim Dennen for mastering this chaos. The dude somehow made it sound polished without losing that raw, unfiltered aggression gabber thrives on. And trust me, when I say "aggression," I mean it. Tracks like I Am Evil and Damadged are burned into my brain—not because they’re pretty or poetic, but because they fucking destroy everything in their path.
I Am Evil kicks things off with an intro that feels like Satan himself loading his shotgun. Then BAM—it drops harder than your drunk mate at a rave. The distorted kicks punch through like a steel-toed boot, while the eerie synths crawl over your skin like spiders. You can’t ignore it; you don’t want to ignore it. This track screams rebellion, pure and simple. It’s not trying to be clever or artsy—it’s here to rip your face off, and it does its job damn well.
Then there’s Damadged. Holy shit, where do I even start? This one sounds like someone took a broken drum machine, threw it down a flight of stairs, and recorded the whole thing. But instead of sounding like a mess, it’s hypnotic as hell. The relentless pace never lets up, and those screeching synths? They’ll haunt your nightmares (in a good way). Every time I hear this track, I feel like I’m being chased by some unseen force. It’s exhausting, exhilarating, and completely unforgettable.
Now, I won’t lie—the rest of the album keeps the energy high, but these two tracks stand out like bloody knuckles after a bar fight. Reptile knew exactly what he was doing when he crafted this sonic assault. Hardcore and gabber fans back in ‘97 must’ve lost their minds hearing this for the first time. Hell, even now, 25 years later, it still holds up.
But here’s the kicker: listening to A New Future feels less like nostalgia and more like prophecy. In a world drowning in soft beats and safe playlists, this album reminds us why music should sometimes hurt. It’s ugly, brutal, and chaotic—but isn’t that what makes life interesting? So crank it loud, piss off your neighbors, and thank Reptile for reminding us that the future ain’t always shiny. Sometimes, it’s downright dangerous.
