Rogueish

House, centred around seemingly infinite rhythmic plateaux, never had choruses this body-builder grotesque.

Wonder if this isn’t the key line in this article, although the correct reference isn’t body builders per se but muscle marys: “classic house” may not feature the “soar” Barrow identifies in recent pop, but the kind of hard house that’s been soundtracking gay clubs for, I guess, the past 15 years, does. Locating this sonic trope in the context of a particular form of commercialized gay hedonism might provide a better analysis than Barrow’s rather sneering criticism.