On his fourth LP as head of Black Marble Chris Stewart reaches back through time to connect with the forgotten bedroom kids of the analogue era, the halcyon days of icy hooks and warbly synths.
This one is spitting fat and neon night-light city drives, white in the corner of the pilot's mouth. Furry, fuzzy and frenetic, motorik and full of blood-rich ticks... maggots unite!
