Bass music has found itself at a crossroad. One foot is rooted in legacy, and the other steps into the unknown. With the release of his most EP Crustacean Station, crawdad sniper‘s journey as an artist reminds listeners that experimenting is a risk worth taking on the unknown avenue where the future isn’t quite paved.
With six tracks, the DMV-based producer taps a powerhouse of collaborators, including Sqonk, Alejo, Cope Aesthetic, Maxfield, togeki, and Optik Sound. The artists all share this language of groove, swagger, and experimentalism. Each collab was built differently: different workflows, sample choices, and project setups. The result? A bass-heavy, halftime EP that gives us the feel and the flash. The curiosity and the stank faces. And above all, a reminder that dance music does exceptionally well in the spaces between certainty and experimentation.
The first track, “Hyphae,” with Sqonk, features growls and a second drop that goes through an insane number of flavors, with a new flow or depth every 8 bars. The progression mirrors the energy of the EP’s visual art, with artwork by smax.art showing a moving crawdad train packed with detail, each car representing a collaborator’s world.
Being a collabs EP, I wanted to the art to be something that captured many different moments and ideas. None of the tunes were written with the explicit intention of going into a greater body of work, but rather in moments of fun and inspiration working with the homies. I wanted to the album art and direction to capture that chaos by not portraying a singular subject but as many little actions and details as possible. The inspiration was almost a “where’s Waldo” -esque vibe.
Those of us who are classic video game side-scroller fans can enjoy this style of nostalgic art. It’s less about progressing cleanly from one “level” to the next, and more about capturing all of these different personalities existing at the same time inside one chaotic station.
The second track, Bubble Stomp with Optik Sound, quite literally makes listeners feel like they need to stomp on bubbles. It has a rhythm that’s super springy, while staying JUST subtle enough to never fully release its tension.
The artwork of the corresponding train car truly lives up to this theme: fantasy characters flipping and tumbling across a speaker-filled environment, like a chaotic side-scroller that doesn’t tell you where to look first. It continues to match the EP’s theme perfectly: movement everywhere, details stacked with speaker stacks, with groove at the center of it all.
The next stop on the station is “Gar” with togeki, and this is where the EP really starts leaning into its strange side. It opens with a subtle hi-hat-heavy build that kind of sneaks up on you, with drums that get breaky, before leading into a second drop. Throw in a few wheel-up samples, and this track turns into a slightly unhinged level of bop.
When the drop hits, it literally makes me feel what I think when I look at a Gar: weird, prehistoric, but undeniably powerful. The train car for this one once again matches the project: a miniature bald cartoon dude with glasses (obviously a model of Togeki) surrounded by a bunch of little creatures playing instruments; another page in this sprawling and chaotic world crawdad sniper built with Crustacean Station.
The collaboration with Cope Aesthetic is extremely funky with a vintage crawdad tone, and you can clearly feel Cope’s ‘aesthetic’ layered in. Super textured, a little gritty, and intentional in its progression. I was in love with how this tune builds patiently and never forces the drop, just letting it settle into the listener’s body.
This is also where the train shifts into the metro brick wall graffiti theme, where it lives for the rest of the ride. In the car, Cope appears on keys while cartoon dudes tag the walls, and at the far end, there’s a hockey mask chainsaw figure chasing them down. Still chaotic, still playful, urban, but stylized.
On “Git Serious” with Maxfield, two of the sharpest producers in this weird halftime lane meet in the middle, and boy, do they execute. One 32 you’re in a classic Crawdad pocket, the next you’re fully in Maxfield’s world…and when that second drop hits, it really gits serious.
The LFOs are CRAZY on this one, bending low ends in ways that make you want to shake your body. Visually, it stays rooted in that metro graffiti setting, reinforcing the grit and motion in the track. It’s just the right amount of weight and insanely technical.
The final collaboration with Alejo opens hilariously (and deceptively) light, with bongo-style drums that lure you in before the track drops into the dark and unmistakable Alejo scape. It’s super moody and stupid technical in the best possible way. His signature growls hit on both the high end and the low end, with vocal samples about hi-fi snobbery woven in.
Additionally, those dark, stylistic vocal chops he’s known for land between sections like clockwork. Visually, it fits seamlessly into the metro graffiti theme that’s defined in the latter half of this EP: skateboarding figures, brick walls, and the continued chaos. This all makes sense with how much Alejo’s own aesthetic very much lives in that world. It felt like a natural closing statement inside the station’s sprawl.
In the end, Crustacean Station isn’t about forcing a single theme, but rather about embracing the chaos of collaboration. As our favorite crawdaddy himself stated, each track was built differently and molded by different techniques and workflows. The one and only unifying thread is his hands being on all of them.
The cars, collaborators, and artists tie it all together. The sprawl is, well, pretty much the whole point. The station is a crowded one by design. A bunch of subjects happening at once, and somehow still moving in sync. Listen to it on Spotify, Apple Music, Bandcamp, or Soundcloud.
Follow crawdad sniper:
Instagram | Facebook | SoundCloud
Bass music has found itself at a crossroad. One foot is rooted in legacy, and the other steps into the unknown. With the release of his most EP Crustacean Station, crawdad sniper‘s journey as an artist reminds listeners that experimenting is a risk worth taking on the unknown avenue where the future isn’t quite paved.
With six tracks, the DMV-based producer taps a powerhouse of collaborators, including Sqonk, Alejo, Cope Aesthetic, Maxfield, togeki, and Optik Sound. The artists all share this language of groove, swagger, and experimentalism. Each collab was built differently: different workflows, sample choices, and project setups. The result? A bass-heavy, halftime EP that gives us the feel and the flash. The curiosity and the stank faces. And above all, a reminder that dance music does exceptionally well in the spaces between certainty and experimentation.
The first track, “Hyphae,” with Sqonk, features growls and a second drop that goes through an insane number of flavors, with a new flow or depth every 8 bars. The progression mirrors the energy of the EP’s visual art, with artwork by smax.art showing a moving crawdad train packed with detail, each car representing a collaborator’s world.
Those of us who are classic video game side-scroller fans can enjoy this style of nostalgic art. It’s less about progressing cleanly from one “level” to the next, and more about capturing all of these different personalities existing at the same time inside one chaotic station.
The second track, Bubble Stomp with Optik Sound, quite literally makes listeners feel like they need to stomp on bubbles. It has a rhythm that’s super springy, while staying JUST subtle enough to never fully release its tension.
The artwork of the corresponding train car truly lives up to this theme: fantasy characters flipping and tumbling across a speaker-filled environment, like a chaotic side-scroller that doesn’t tell you where to look first. It continues to match the EP’s theme perfectly: movement everywhere, details stacked with speaker stacks, with groove at the center of it all.
The next stop on the station is “Gar” with togeki, and this is where the EP really starts leaning into its strange side. It opens with a subtle hi-hat-heavy build that kind of sneaks up on you, with drums that get breaky, before leading into a second drop. Throw in a few wheel-up samples, and this track turns into a slightly unhinged level of bop.
When the drop hits, it literally makes me feel what I think when I look at a Gar: weird, prehistoric, but undeniably powerful. The train car for this one once again matches the project: a miniature bald cartoon dude with glasses (obviously a model of Togeki) surrounded by a bunch of little creatures playing instruments; another page in this sprawling and chaotic world crawdad sniper built with Crustacean Station.
The collaboration with Cope Aesthetic is extremely funky with a vintage crawdad tone, and you can clearly feel Cope’s ‘aesthetic’ layered in. Super textured, a little gritty, and intentional in its progression. I was in love with how this tune builds patiently and never forces the drop, just letting it settle into the listener’s body.
This is also where the train shifts into the metro brick wall graffiti theme, where it lives for the rest of the ride. In the car, Cope appears on keys while cartoon dudes tag the walls, and at the far end, there’s a hockey mask chainsaw figure chasing them down. Still chaotic, still playful, urban, but stylized.
On “Git Serious” with Maxfield, two of the sharpest producers in this weird halftime lane meet in the middle, and boy, do they execute. One 32 you’re in a classic Crawdad pocket, the next you’re fully in Maxfield’s world…and when that second drop hits, it really gits serious.
The LFOs are CRAZY on this one, bending low ends in ways that make you want to shake your body. Visually, it stays rooted in that metro graffiti setting, reinforcing the grit and motion in the track. It’s just the right amount of weight and insanely technical.
The final collaboration with Alejo opens hilariously (and deceptively) light, with bongo-style drums that lure you in before the track drops into the dark and unmistakable Alejo scape. It’s super moody and stupid technical in the best possible way. His signature growls hit on both the high end and the low end, with vocal samples about hi-fi snobbery woven in.
Additionally, those dark, stylistic vocal chops he’s known for land between sections like clockwork. Visually, it fits seamlessly into the metro graffiti theme that’s defined in the latter half of this EP: skateboarding figures, brick walls, and the continued chaos. This all makes sense with how much Alejo’s own aesthetic very much lives in that world. It felt like a natural closing statement inside the station’s sprawl.
In the end, Crustacean Station isn’t about forcing a single theme, but rather about embracing the chaos of collaboration. As our favorite crawdaddy himself stated, each track was built differently and molded by different techniques and workflows. The one and only unifying thread is his hands being on all of them.
The cars, collaborators, and artists tie it all together. The sprawl is, well, pretty much the whole point. The station is a crowded one by design. A bunch of subjects happening at once, and somehow still moving in sync. Listen to it on Spotify, Apple Music, Bandcamp, or Soundcloud.
Follow crawdad sniper:
Instagram | Facebook | SoundCloud
Related Content: