Pictureplane loves to craft his songs out of the ghastly junk of other tracks and sounds, finishing most of the time with his particular brand of zombified dance music. Kudos then, to Brooklyn remixer Brenmar, who figured out that if you make Pictureplane just a little more frenetic, his work turns from undead pop to overheated amphetamine house, with just a touch of gay. This sounds like the kind of stuff they would play at the foam party of my dreams. [Pitchfork]