For those only familiar with her previous releases, aya sinclair’s ‘im hole’ will be a dramatic revelation. Under the LOFT pseudonym, she attracted global acclaim for her fwd-thinking club inversions that juxtaposed the British addiction to breaks 'n bass with critical, self-sluicing logic and untethered abstraction, tearing down dance music's hallowed pillars of respectability while winking knowingly to voyeuristic onlookers. On ‘im hole’ this routine has evolved; aya has distilled the incisive sonic experimentation of her earlier releases, the tongue-in-cheek giggles of her DJ sets and edits, and the identity-fluxing lyricism of her live shows. Contorting language, dialect, gender and sexuality between intermittently controlled bursts of rhythm, noise and aural goop, she has sculpted a set of autobiographical vignettes that challenge established norms, question supposed truths and affirm a spectrum of interlocking experiences. But while it's wide open and personal, ‘im hole’ also challenges queer art's tendency to veer towards repetitive solipsism, the music fragmenting familiar sounds and twinning them with familiar words, assembled in unfamiliar ways. Stories are muddled with phonetics just as dubstep is macrodosed with microtonal drone. The anxious, explorative personality that made aya’s previous releases so magnetic is magnified here, and her sense of humour is completely naked. It's a Gregg Araki-directed animated biopic of Burial. It's Shakespeare with hoop earrings and a busted skateboard.