There’s something unhinged about releasing a record in the middle of a life overhaul—like trying to wire a sound system while the house is still on fire. And yet here comes Gunnar Nash, kicking the door in with Waiting, a brand new EP released on Dome of Doom records, dragging with it the heavy, sub-rattling guts of a man who clearly has no interest in playing it safe.
This is not polite music. This is the kind of low-end pressure that feels like it was engineered in a bunker, fueled by sleep deprivation and the strange psychic electricity of new fatherhood. Nash admits as much—he’s not here to please you. He’s here to make something he can fall in love with first, consequences be damned. A dangerous philosophy, historically speaking, but one that tends to produce results worth paying attention to.
Built entirely in FL Studio with Serum and its newer, more volatile sibling, the EP is a meticulous act of sonic self-surgery. Every frequency carved, every transient placed with the kind of obsessive precision that only comes from years of tinkering in the dark. He mixed and mastered the thing himself—no safety net, no committee, just instinct and a pile of audio tools humming like lab equipment.
You can hear the lineage—forward-leaning trap, fractured dubstep, the ghost of underground bass scenes past—but it never settles into imitation. It mutates. It pushes.
Waiting arrives not as a product, but as evidence: of change, of pressure, of a man building a life and a sound at the same time—and refusing to compromise either.
Follow Gunnar Nash:
Instagram | Facebook | SoundCloud
There’s something unhinged about releasing a record in the middle of a life overhaul—like trying to wire a sound system while the house is still on fire. And yet here comes Gunnar Nash, kicking the door in with Waiting, a brand new EP released on Dome of Doom records, dragging with it the heavy, sub-rattling guts of a man who clearly has no interest in playing it safe.
This is not polite music. This is the kind of low-end pressure that feels like it was engineered in a bunker, fueled by sleep deprivation and the strange psychic electricity of new fatherhood. Nash admits as much—he’s not here to please you. He’s here to make something he can fall in love with first, consequences be damned. A dangerous philosophy, historically speaking, but one that tends to produce results worth paying attention to.
Built entirely in FL Studio with Serum and its newer, more volatile sibling, the EP is a meticulous act of sonic self-surgery. Every frequency carved, every transient placed with the kind of obsessive precision that only comes from years of tinkering in the dark. He mixed and mastered the thing himself—no safety net, no committee, just instinct and a pile of audio tools humming like lab equipment.
You can hear the lineage—forward-leaning trap, fractured dubstep, the ghost of underground bass scenes past—but it never settles into imitation. It mutates. It pushes.
Waiting arrives not as a product, but as evidence: of change, of pressure, of a man building a life and a sound at the same time—and refusing to compromise either.
Follow Gunnar Nash:
Instagram | Facebook | SoundCloud
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