It always starts with a whisper.
Then the kick lands - slow, thick, drenched in midnight. Pads curl in like smoke. Basslines writhe beneath. And just like that, you're back inside it - the world according to Trafik. After a string of stunning single releases teasing the edges of their long-awaited return, the full Haunt EP is finally here. It's not just an EP. It's a message in ultraviolet ink: the underground never left - it just went deeper.
Trafik, long celebrated for their deft command of cinematic electronica and emotionally intelligent club music, have been shaping the shape-shifters for twenty years. From the early days of Global Underground compilation lore to shaping the identity of underground chill rooms, this UK duo has remained untouchable in tone and execution. The Haunt EP is a culmination - but it never settles. It lurks, leans, and lifts.
Now, with the final pieces locked in - 'AM Radio' and 'Truth Hertz' - the puzzle is complete. AM Radio is exactly what it says on the label: all nostalgic hiss and woozy FM warmth, channeling Boards of Canada if they were dosed at Fabric. It's hazy, melancholic, and drenched in memory. This is music for the ghosts of late nights past, still dancing somewhere in the static.
Then comes 'Truth Hertz' - a jagged, twitching slow-burner of a track. It bubbles with paranoia and resolve, like walking through the backstreets of a neon city at 4am with nothing but your headphones and a suspicion that something isn't quite right. This is what Trafik do best - music that moves you forward, but glances sideways. Always watching. Always aware.
Across the EP, you'll find it all: downtempo slow-motion beats to melt your spine (Optic), ambient dreamscapes that glisten like dawn over water (1995), and rolling melodic techno built for the long-haul sets (Haunt). And underneath it all: a pulse. Something that knows where it came from. Something that remembers.
What sets Trafik apart - what's always set them apart - is their refusal to pander. This isn't playlist-fodder. This isn't TikTok fluff. It's real music for real listeners. It demands your attention, and it rewards it tenfold. You don't just hear Haunt. You inhabit it. It swells around you. It becomes part of your emotional circuitry. Like a night you can't forget. Like a secret you can't shake.
Ray of Light Records 073 delivers not just a record, but a statement. An exhale. A reminder that some things - when built with love, sweat, and a razor-sharp ear - only get better with time.
Haunt isn't a throwback. It's a reckoning.
Trafik are back. And they've got ghosts.