, aka , seems intent on pulling apart the very foundations of the club. Punk, dub, experimental techno and drum and bass collide across the producer’s debut album, though none of these influences are allowed to settle comfortably. Instead, they become fragments in a much more volatile construction; a record that feels less like a collection of club tracks and more like a confrontation with the self.
Having spent the past few years establishing themselves as one of electronic music’s most restless voices, from the intricate, kinetic productions of ‘Flower Burial’ to the shapeshifting explorations of ‘Suspension Of Belief’, Li’s catalogue has continually resisted easy categorisation. ‘Great Jobs’, however, feels like a more radical departure. There’s a sense of deliberate abrasion here, an unwillingness to smooth over the rough edges of an idea in favour of something more immediately accessible.
When I was younger I’d make music which reinforced my convictions, love, and my own identity as a queer person”, Li says via the press release. “It was sometimes harrowing to see myself through the magic mirror – all flaws and angst and inadequacy. I felt this intimately whilst writing the album. It was all a part of me at some point, but having excised and dissected these characters within, I could resign myself to the moving picture of identity – the flowing stream.”
The album’s relationship with punk is particularly striking. Not simply through its abrasive textures or confrontational energy, but in its refusal to behave. Rhythms stumble, mutate and collapse, while basslines seem to emerge from some subterranean space before disappearing into the murk. The dub influence is equally significant, providing a sense of space and weight that allows the album’s more chaotic elements to breathe.
It’s a record that feels consumed by anger and suffering, but never in a way that becomes one-dimensional. There’s a remarkable tension between its physicality and introspection, between the impulse to destroy and the desire to understand, between the light and the dark.
“Many people’s lives are drastically so much worse at the moment. My emotions went between confounded, lost, and grasping at ideas of resistance and liberation. I required an outlet immediately, wanting to feel something unravel, and to show the bleeding heart of work.”
Where conventional dance music often seeks release through repetition, Li seems more interested in what happens when that release is withheld. The album’s rhythms are constantly shifting beneath the listener, creating a sense of instability that feels deeply intentional. Even when the music threatens to become overwhelming, there’s a precision to its construction that prevents it from descending into chaos for chaos’s sake.
‘Great Jobs’ is a bold statement from an artist who continues to push against the limitations of their own practice. It transcends the realms of both light and dark, to an unearthly province, but there’s something deeply human in its refusal to look away from the uglier aspects of existence. Rather than offering an escape from the world, gyrofield has created a record that forces us to sit with it. A striking, uncompromising work that finds beauty in the turbulence.
8/10