Put It On by Skinnz: A Gritty UK Dance Floor Gem
If you’re into those bass-heavy beats that make your chest rattle like an old washing machine, then Put It On by Skinnz is worth a spin. Released back in 2011 on Well Rounded Records, this album dives deep into the electronic and dance scene with flavors of dubstep and UK garage. It’s raw, unpolished, and feels like it was brewed in some underground club where the DJ doesn’t care if you spill your drink as long as you keep moving.
Let’s talk tracks. First up, “I Know.” This one sticks to your brain like gum under a table—it’s got this cheeky little vocal sample looping over razor-sharp synths. The beat switches around halfway through, throwing in these glitchy stutters that feel like someone just rewired your headphones mid-song. Honestly? I wasn’t ready for how addictive it got. Every time I hear it now, I’m transported right back to sweaty basements and neon lights flickering like they can barely handle the vibe.
Then there’s “Put It On,” the title track (duh). If “I Know” is all about teasing you with its cleverness, this one grabs you by the collar and says, “Dance, mate!” It’s pure energy—those chunky basslines hit hard enough to knock your socks off, while the percussion clicks along like a broken metronome having the time of its life. You don’t just listen to this; you feel it. And trust me, when the drop hits, you’ll know why people still bang on about UK garage even after all these years.
The whole thing has this grungy charm to it, like Skinnz didn’t bother smoothing out the edges because who cares? Perfection’s boring anyway. Tracks like “Get It On” round out the EP nicely but honestly, it’s “I Know” and “Put It On” that linger longest in my headspace. They remind me of what makes UK dance music so damn special: it’s not afraid to get messy, to push boundaries, or to leave you breathless at 3 AM wondering where the night went.
So yeah, Put It On isn’t gonna win any Grammy awards (does anyone even give Grammys for dubstep?), but it doesn’t need to. What it does do is prove that sometimes the best tunes come from scrappy little labels putting out records that sound like they were made in someone’s bedroom. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking—I dunno. Either way, crank this up loud and let it swallow you whole. Just don’t blame me if your neighbors start complaining.
Oh, and here’s the kicker: listening to this album somehow made me crave chips. Weird flex, but hey, art moves us in mysterious ways.
