An-ten-nae presents Acid Crunk Vol. 2 is an essential component to the musical lives of those who love West Coast sound. What West Coast sound exactly IS, no one can really say- but listen to this album and you can practically hear the crushing waves of the Pacific Ocean, the strange sizzle of city streets, and the hyped-up yet laid back ethos that pervades the culture in this slice of the world.

Acid Crunk Vol. 2 never relies on an accelerated tempo to deliver its energy or to make the dance floor move, yet accomplishes both feats with flying colors. It has a bass backbone made of steel from which it draws its strength, allowing for exploratory extremities and a head of feral fire. The compilation album features some of the most talented producers in the world today in the realm of dubstep, glitch hop, experimental hip hop and all of their mutant cousins. It is a cocktail of styles- a Long Island Iced Tea, actually, with each component just as strong and kick-ass as the next. When you finish it, your brain will be buzzing and your limbs will be loose. And you will want another round.

Starting off with “Bang That,” an-ten-nae himself eases you into a slippery silver pool of shaved bass, filled to the brim with the insectine voices of those alien-robots that seem to procreate wildly in San Francisco. Gurgling bass works you into the track gently and then starts rubbing your belly- but watch out, because you are about to be hooked, leg kicking up to the sky like a jerk dancer on his back. Soon an atomic thunderstorm has snuck up on you, the sound of destruction raining down on your head. As an excellent intro should, the track then withdraws slightly with one last “Acid Crunk” vocal sample, easing out with a bow and raising expectations for the entire album and especially for the next track, “Foolish Silence” by OOah, one of the standout tunes of the bunch.

Further welcoming you into the fold of funk, “Foolish Silence” starts with slow and certain steps, like you are being seated in a hushed opera box, privy to the strange conversations of even stranger people around you. But then the riffs start, and you are pulled up to the moon, higher and higher each time, higher than Snoop Dogg, higher than you think you can go. Is there even oxygen up here? The lush backdrop starts to twitch out like the Matrix, and then BOOM! falls a massive drop that still retains all of its elegant beauty, like the opera house was dropped from outer space, and bounced. Building back up, the track owns the absolute breath mark, a perfect moment of negative space: it is the second one breeches the atmosphere and starts to fall back to earth in flames. But truly, “it’s alright…” as “Foolish Silence” soothes you down after the madness, setting you back to sail on your sea of dreams with a little push. And despite your burning ship, there is magically no wake, but only a few ripples behind you.

Catch your breath and quick because if you look up the word “BANGER” in the dictionary, Datsik’s “Southpaw” is going to jump out of the screen, grab you by the shoulders and start shaking you madly. The classic opening beat belies the incredible belly on this song, with a melody made of bass that somehow controls the pushing, throbbing madness. Cars crash and doors slam as the gravel-strewn voice of Method Man and a whole factory of bass slabs picks you up and throws you down, the fast wobble and scratch of the low end having its way with you. In the meanwhile, frisky slide-whistle and zipper sounds keep the feeling light, offsetting the heavy, multi-layered bass that is scraping off the top of your skull.

Good thing you don’t need your brain anyway for what comes next: the dirtiest, filthiest track of the album, “Gangsteppin” by Marty Party. Wallowing in bass and loving it, the amazing synth work is tight and trepidacious with a metal crust. Dipping into what I call froggy bass (because it splats down and then spreads out, leaving a slimy trail behind), Marty Party has enlisted robotic frogs, and taught them tricks. The ending slips away cleanly, and a sliver of sanity is glimpsed.

Next the Aussie Opiuo brings down a tick-tock-slam on “King Prawn” with stompy and wide-angle bass, hard with hard edges. Upbeat in mood though not in actual beats, the track is a fun romp, the theme song of a badass on his way out into night who keeps getting joined by more and more badass friends. Deliberate and delivering, “King Prawn” takes its time to rock you, like the slow cool gaze of a lover who knows he will soon be getting what he wants.

Calling all mortals! Exceptional producer Akira Kiteshi gives us a track with the power of a Cyclops, wrapped up in what is almost an 80’s hair rock feel- the 3080’s, that is. However there is no film of Aquanet on this potent track, but only an all-out celebration of musical glory with shining muscles; unabashed maleness without the macho fakery. “Ulysses” kills the giant Cyclops and then gets down with his bad self, apparently.

Itchy beeping “Bleep” by Gemmy has a very whompy sound that spirals, not up or down but sideways, growing crystallized fur along the way. An-ten-nae’s remix of “Do You” by Freeland is the transcript of a conversation between the echoes of a laser beam and a monster with zipper lips. Twitchy “Stay Triumphant” by Apox builds on itself into “Caribbean Heat” by Ben Samples, low and warm like a blanket on the sand under clinking stars above.

ill-esha and Dewey dB of Vancouver display an innate knowledge of the workings of crunk on “H.A.A.R.P.”; the track is glitch hoppy and steps certainly down the staircased-bass in glass slippers. Drilling and uplifting with finessed harp samples, the track takes you in two directions at once and achieves “active aural research” into the realm of the low end. Blissful.

“Pharma Sutra” by ill.gates and Filastine is slap-choppy, with sealed raindrops of sound, vibrating together in multiple tiers. Perhaps the most famous name on the album, Bluetech reminds us why he is great with the contemplative “Waiting for Initiation,” a journey from a single drum in the desert to the realization of collective consciousness. Tasting of tribal and rich in a multitude of sounds, the track gets livelier and broadens out like a fan. It starts smacking you harder, and as the vocal samples stretch out to the horizon, you realize something: you are already there.

But your journey is not quite complete, as Robot Koch puts the cherry on top with his outstanding final track, “Hard to Find.” This music transports you to a perch overlooking the entire world, the point from which all you can see is the epic beauty and goodness, and none of the sadness and despair. With perfectly positioned beats, strata of bass layers push you down to reality and delicate vocal samples lift you up to transcendence, while the climbing keys of an organ with a harpsichord's soul put an organic, human touch on this elegant world. It is a world where all is well, and “Hard to Find” is the signature of a sherbet sunset, its colors blurred through tears of gratitude and arms raised to a future you will dream into being. Robot creates an incredible sense of peace with this song, something that truly is hard to find.

The track, and the album, ends with an inhaled breath. What a perfect ending (and beginning) for the energetic climate swirling around the bass and beat music communities of the West Coast and in the world right now! What will happen next? Where do we go from here? What exciting musical discoveries lay in the future? How will they mutilate the bass next year? No one knows, but some things are certain: we won’t be exhaling for a quite a while, and An-ten-nae as well as all the players on Acid Crunk Vol. 2 will be there, helping us breathe with gasmasks of glitch and iron lungs full of low-slung crunk.