Trip-hop has always been a mystifying genre. Too banal to be either trippy or hoppy, its protagonists sailed lethargically through the scene before shipping off to new shores once they realised no-one actually cared. So, with this in mind, the proposition of self-confessed trip-hopper Joe Matson�s new single fails to fill the heart with hope. And from the first silky smooth down-tempo beat its clear �DTA� won�t breathe a fresh lease of life into a dying scene. Inoffensively bland, it�s a late night smoking track for those unable to solve anything more taxing than what makes the best roach material. Trip-hop: seriously, who needs it?
