Underworld

Their 11th album is rippling with each of the hallmarks that first made fans of us all those years ago: rib-rattling thuds, euphoric synths, lyrics that catch you off guard, and basslines for absolute days.

'Strawberry Hotel' is a heavenly amalgamation of all that came before boosted with a legion of surprises that expands the duo's mould and energises us for a fresh trip to the dancefloor. The duo's 11th album is one that we can't wait to check in to. Welcome to 'Strawberry Hotel'. Here, gleaming tensile techno forms clean, straight lines while scratchy acoustic guitars scuff up edges to produce ghostly audio. Poetry is snatched from the overhead, removed from the overheard; words borrowed from the ether are spun into dizzying new shapes, sometimes reappearing in new settings, twisted back to front, side to side. Each track a very different room - some soundtracked by little more than metronomic kick drum and robotic voice, others deep in layer upon layer of melody and euphoric noise - and each room unmistakably, uniquely Underworld. The only advice from Underworld’s Rick Smith and Karl Hyde upon entering: “Please don’t shuffle.”

'Strawberry Hotel' features the singles and the colour red and denver luna, as well as new release Black Poppies - a celestial love song, a hymn to the universe and to boundless, positive change. Ambient and beatless, Black Poppies is a celebration of full dancefloors and the beauty of life itself.