Wiley’s productions are simultaneously reaching IDM levels of abstraction while being the most dead simple physical records this side of ‘Grindin’. Nothing really happens in 8-bar productions after they make their opening statements, but at their best the instrumentals are weird enough or physical enough or both to be carried along for their three or four changing-same minutes. ‘Blizzard’ reminds me — amazingly — of Piano Magic’s more abstract vignettes like ‘Music for Annahbird’ reworked for a Greensleeves riddim album. A tea-kettle whistle, ultra-dry bongo rhythm and then BAM: what sounds like car doors slamming in time and that trademark Wiley-bass, a ridiculous, overmodulated waveform that skips up and down octaves and sounds like nothing so much as a cyborg jug band. It’s hilarious and terrible and boring and gripping and the future.