It’s probably best to get out of the way: Cocoon Crush isn’t necessarily the most inviting of music.

Then, TJ Hertz, better known as Objekt, clearly didn’t intend for it to be.

Having set dancefloors in Berlin alight for a number of years, the DJ and producer has slid increasingly further towards his real interest: challenging those making merrys expectations - and their very thresholds - rather than, well, making them merry.

If his proper debut in 2014 with Flatland was directed towards questioning “club conventions”, Cocoon Crush stamps them out completely. The title itself is telling: “crush” may bring to mind a flight of fancy, but Hertz’s meaning is clearly quite the opposite.

At times, the music here seems to genuinely constrict you, spiraling tendrils enwrapping the listener in a dense, deep lost cavern of thought and sound. Again, this is by no means an “easy” listen, but it’s likely to leave you changed.

Possessing an almost extraterrestrial feeling, Cocoon Crush sucks you out, with force, into the vacuum. As the saying goes, in space, there’s no one to hear you scream, but there’s likely to be many to hear you dance: more than ever, Objekt’s interest delve into ambient inspirations, with Hertz finding spellbinding power not through throbbing loudness, but rather a drifting sense of dread and uncertainty.

In developing the album, Hertz sought an evermore natural set of sounds, often shying away from the mechanical gleam of much of Berlin’s electronic scene, preferring organic inspirations, from found sound all the way into ASMR-inspired textures.

This is not your grandma’s techno, nor even your cool older brothers; it’s hardly even classifiable. Much like its cover art, Cocoon Crush can be recognized as something familiar, but you’re unlikely to be able to glean just what that is. It lies, distant and in waiting, ready to challenge you, with Objekt ever-seeking to open, both for his listeners and himself, new possibilities.