Live, the dizz is a hunched n relentless entity, getting revs up with a pounding kick before Ruby and Andy drop into gear on their respective fractions of drum-kit. The lineups shared with Holy Fuck were an instructive comparison, but maybe a better reference is The Prodigy; TD affirming and indeed reveling in the obvious if surprisingly under-explored horseshoe shape to the rave-punk continuum. On their debut album, the DIYialectics are rife – drums n’ bass synthesising a worldview from being programmed-in and bashed-out, vox birthed from diaphragm and reared in perpetuating delay, the sublimity of technology made feral and repetition of the social made sublime. TD are St Francis and the horde of animals, collectivising a predisposition towards dbeat and gabber, cliques turned scenes turned psychic stigmatas. The immediacy of their live set is captured throughout Mountain Simulator, a classic like ‘EZLN’ still conjuring brief, sweaty detournement while studio time affords ‘Big Battery’ more room to stretch. The standout to me, predictably, is ‘Water Park’ which does away with careful percussive layers, deferring to something heavy-fisted and apocalyptic. Lets not forget Andy’s latent metal-headness or the initial years Al spent screaming in hardcore bands on the Gold Coast. It’s probably the closest a park rave will get to eyehategod and that’s fine by me. Teether’s feature here is par excellence, disaffected and steely-eyed in the storm. Mountain Simulator is above all conspicuously current, slinging the freshest possible gear, and ignoring the silos of genre and subculture. The album successfully realises Tongue Dissolver sound and ethic, making it accessible but not necessarily visible, spectacular but not the spectacle; a sort-of culturally productive resistance which is intentionally difficult to recuperate.