Let's talk about The Presets

2008 is remembered for a few things, some not so good, but a stand out highlight has to be The Presets' album Apocalypso.

It's fair to say that it's influence on all of us in THE SUB TXT has been considerable. So much so, it felt only right to pay homage.

Apocalypso is the sort of album that makes you want to throw your tie in a bin, don a sequinned jacket, and dance like no one’s watching – even though everyone most definitely is, and they’re judging you. Positively, for once.

With all the subtlety of a strobe light in a monastery, The Presets’ sophomore effort explodes out of the gates like a feral robot discovering ketamine. Every track is meticulously engineered to ensure your legs move independently of your brain, while your upper lip remains resolutely stiff. It’s synth-pop with a side of menace, like Gary Numan got locked in a basement rave and rather enjoyed it.

Take “My People” – a pounding, paranoid anthem that feels like an Orwellian protest chant if it had been sponsored by Red Bull.

The album’s production is tight, punchy, and unapologetically electronic – the musical equivalent of someone repeatedly slapping you with a glitter-coated circuit board. Julian Hamilton’s vocals swing between preacher and predator, while Kim Moyes ensures the drums sound like they were recorded inside a very rhythmic earthquake.

There’s no filler – just bangers, stompers, and the occasional introspective electro-ballad that makes you want to cry into your gin and tonic while wearing sunglasses indoors. “This Boy’s in Love” is as close as it gets to tenderness, but even then it feels like it’s trying to seduce you while simultaneously warning you not to get attached.

In short, Apocalypso is what would happen if Depeche Mode got drunk in Sydney and started a fire on the dancefloor. It’s brilliant, brash, and doesn’t care what your dad thinks about “real instruments.” An absolute belter from start to finish.

We loved it at the time, we still do now. We hope you do to.