After a two-year hiatus, Manchester’s anonymous cyberpunk collective Overrider are back, louder and more chaotic than ever. Known for their unapologetically confrontational blend of electronic shoegaze, Overrider initially broke through in 2020–2021 with a series of projects that earned both critical acclaim and a cult following. Then, they disappeared. Now, with their new album,Sparse Vector, they’re back to push the limits of genre, turning nostalgia into high-octane electronica.

Opening with Tokyo 3, the album launches with an unabashed drum and bass rush, layering frenetic beats and dizzying synths that practically beg for a reckless dancefloor. It’s hyper-stylised, intensely energetic, and impossible to ignore. Black Wings continues the chaotic, party-fuelled energy, with glitchy, pop-forward layers that feel like they’re made for a live stage. There’s a palpable sense of joyful abandon here, with sounds colliding and overlapping in a way that rewards repeat listens—each pass reveals another layer you may have missed.

Khallos is more of a continuation than a departure, blending dense rhythms and complex structures that seem to bleed from one track into the next. Distinguishing between tracks isn’t always easy, but that feels like part of the experience Overrider is offering, especially with nods to breakbeat and the influence of Amon Tobin sprinkled throughout. Redeye provides a slight shift in tone, incorporating haunting vocal samples and a chilling monologue from writer and scholar McKenzie Wark, who observes, “Nobody is flying the plane, which means that there are opportunists lining up to break into the cockpit.” It’s a striking moment of reflection amid the intensity, adding unexpected philosophical depth.

The album’s tone shifts again with This is Not an Exit, a sombre, ambient piece that drifts through a hazy, futuristic soundscape with Radiohead-esque introspection. The album is a trove of sonic ideas—so many, in fact, that coherence sometimes takes a back seat. Still, tracks like Fracture offer heavy, drop-tuned riffs that ground the album in satisfying, crunchy moments. Closer Shattered sprawls over nine minutes of drum and bass, plunging into introspective depths that echo late-night existential musings.

While Overrider’s return is exhilarating, this album may not be one you’d revisit frequently. Its layered complexity and relentless intensity might be best enjoyed in small doses, but it undeniably showcases a band that’s fearless, innovative, and intent on pushing the boundaries of electronic music.