Uberzone’s sound – dry-tinder breaks and acid sizzle – is hot weather music. More accurately, it’s music for places where nothing but heat matters, great open desert places where you don’t even need to shimmy, ’cause the bass and the temperature make the air do it instead. It’s too hot to strike a pose, and so “The Botz” is appealingly artless, wearing its grooves and samples like a pair of bright baggy shorts; practical, not trendy. The bubble and splatch of the 303 is like eggs frying on metal in this dry, clean heat: nothing to do but dance, and maybe hope for rain.