If the inaugural release of Miniclic Records was the opening sentence of a whispered secret, then “Ultra Girl” is the mischievous smirk that follows, revealing a story deeper and more cryptic than one initially assumed. Spanish producer Enzo Leep unspools a labyrinth of movement, his grooves darting like ephemeral fireflies in the twilight, illuminating the space between beats with spectral glows.
The EP begins with a serpentine glide, “Ultra Girl (Elastic 140 Vision)”, a track that teeters between taut control and the unraveling of unknown frequencies. The percussive scaffolding is crisp yet elastic, stretching and contracting like the breath of a restless machine. Abstract elements slither through the arrangement—percussive droplets falling unpredictably, shimmering textures melting into each other like ink in water. There is a sense of perpetual motion, a kinetic energy that pulses with the urgency of something unseen rushing past in the dark.
Diving deeper into the undergrowth, “Forest 2.0” exchanges the previous track’s precision for something grittier, rawer. Here, the elements are less measured, more instinctual. It trudges forward with a deliberate stomp, its textures mossy and damp, murmurs of synthetic life crackling like distant thunder. The track feels like the remnants of a once-bustling habitat, now reclaimed by shadows and creeping vines. It is hypnotic yet ominous, inviting the listener to step off the path and into the unknown.
“Take This” with MarGonGon is where the fever dream intensifies. Blues guitar licks drip like candle wax onto the skeletal framework of minimal percussion, while a spectral voice drifts through the mix—sometimes a whisper, sometimes a wail. It is a meeting of elements that should, by conventional wisdom, remain strangers, yet here they intertwine in a way that feels both intimate and disorienting. The track flirts with dissolution, constantly teetering on the edge of form before retreating back into its woozy trance.
Then there is the Birdsmakingmachine Remix, a reconstruction that peels away the surrealism of the original and replaces it with something leaner, more unrelenting. The bassline prowls, the percussion sharpens, the groove becomes a ceaseless tide. It is a piece engineered for late-night rituals, where bodies move in tandem with unseen forces, where time dissolves into rhythm. Stripped of excess, it lays bare the pulse that Enzo Leep concealed within his original—now revealed, amplified, undeniable.
“Ultra Girl” is not a collection of tracks, but a sequence of shifting mirages—each one inviting the listener deeper into its illusions. Enzo Leep balances precision and unpredictability with a craftsman’s touch, layering textures that flirt with the surreal while never losing sight of movement. With its second release, Miniclic continues to carve out a niche for the daring, for those who find beauty in the abstract and rhythm in the unknown. The whisper is getting louder.
Words by Holger Breuer
Torture the Artist 