If at some point over the past decade you found yourself scrolling through the pages of Feel My Bicep, the infamous dance music blog ran by Irish DJ duo Andy Ferguson and Matt McBriar, you're probably aware of how much they love and appreciate dance music and rave culture. Featuring tracks, mixes, and edits that touch on a wide range of styles from Detroit techno and house to jungle and disco, it showcased their passion for crate digging and for connecting with equally passionate dance music fans.

That passion and extensive knowledge carried over into their eventual DJing gigs as Bicep as well as the original cuts they began turning out a few years ago. Which all leads to their long-awaited proper debut. For those who have kept tabs on what they've been doing in the years leading up to this moment, Bicep is likely to offer everything you have come to expect from the duo by now.

They treat the album format as a compact version of both their blog and DJ sets, offering sleek modern takes on various styles from UK dance music's history. With its chintzy glowing synths and tinny beat, 'Kites' is a nod to 90s techno, 'Rain' mixes punchy garage house with a haunting and gorgeous Indian vocal that comes creeping up from behind. 'Glue' offers a slowed and understated take on jungle where mournful synths and a looped vocal sample that repeatedly cries out "...and I'm alone" sigh collectively with a sense of longing, while the cinematic synths on 'Drift' give the impression of experiencing an especially tense scene from a psychological thriller.

The music as a whole isn't as immersive as you would expect it to feel at first. Instead it works on a more subconscious level, gradually drawing you in with a subtle pull. That seeming lack of immediacy does nothing to take away from how enjoyable many of the highlights here are, and the album is well-paced in such a way that it never lingers longer than it needs to. And after years of crate digging and honing their skills it's obvious the kind of craftsmanship Bicep are capable of as producers.

Even at that, it's hard to overlook how many of the songs here seem to lack any real personality. You almost get the impression from listening to this set that Bicep are for whatever reason restraining their more adventurous side and instead of exploring the possibilities of their influences, their music instead comes up feeling a little indistinct at times. Still that shouldn't take away from the experience giving yourself over to an hour's worth of some the UK's better-known dance scenes distilled into a well produced single space.