The kick drum knocks you into a meditative state as the rest of the gang—claps, hi hats, synths, bass—gradually fill up the rest of the audible frequencies. Sure, it’ll come and go through the track’s duration. But its absence won’t stop your head from nodding in its wake. Dance music’s constant, four-on-the-floor beat might not be as exciting as its powerful leads and subwoofer-shattering basslines. Without that steady rhythm, however, you lose a foundational aspect that compels us to keep dance beyond our regular physical capabilities. Take out the kick in any Martin Garrix song and tell me you’d still want to see him at Ultra.

Even electronic genres that take percussive inspiration from hip hop—like future bass and trap—protects the sanctity of a stable tempo. In fact, you could argue that the vast majority of contemporary music is made without messing with the metronome. But there is value in changing tempo mid-song. Classical music is full of alternating fast and slow sections; progressive metal does too. Despite electronic music’s rigid synchronicity to a steadfast beat, some artists have utilized tempo shifts for a variety of cool effects.

Slowly faster or slowly slower?

Celebrated pieces of art—from films at Sundance to F. Scott Fitzgerald novels—is created by masters of controlling tension. Suspense cannot be manufactured; natural anticipation comes from within. But effective storytelling gives the audience a reason to care and makes the payoff so much more satisfying. In regards to tension, this involves making the audience more and more uncomfortable while promising a worthwhile emancipation later on. In electronic music, this is generally developed in the buildup through using two methods: either double-timing track elements (usually the clap or snare) or using some type of pitch-rising synth. You get to the point where there’s so much going on that the only gratifying way out is the subsequent drop.

Alternatively, gradually upping the track’s tempo can not only create tension but also hold attention in a unique way. Just look at the Iceland national football team’s postgame chant. If you didn’t want to enrage a squad of athletic young adults with Viking ancestry, you had to focus on the guy setting the pace. He is the metronome. Eric Prydz’s “Opus” achieves the same immersive effect in its nearly four minute buildup. Combined with the added instrumentation throughout, the track refuses to appease to your abridged attention span. You’re forced to repeatedly adjust to the new speed of the track every time you dial in. Not only is tension added through the aforementioned ways, the song also keeps you from leaving and destroying that built up tension.

Gradual tempo changes can also work as a transition. “Take a Chance” off Flume’s second LP sandwiches the bouncier middle part with a slower beginning and end section that, respectively, introduces and reprises the main Little Dragon-led chorus. The Australian producer allows the song to run through a verse and chorus first, lulling the listener into familiarity with the pace of the first section. So when the pleasing synth chords get replaced by a series of faint but increasingly fast snare hit, we are suddenly taken out of that comfort zone and into the track’s main groove. The same principle is inversely applied on Skrillex, 12th Planet, and Kill the Noise’s “Right on Time”: intro section slowly morphing into a lower BPM drop.

Chopped and screwed

Although T-Pain used that phrase to describe getting cold shouldered at the club, “chopped and screwed” actually refers to a style of remixing hip hop record in which the original song is massively slowed down, resulting in a codeine-crazy reiteration. For example, the tail end of Kendrick Lamar’s “ELEMENT.” contains a chopped and screwed version of the chorus. Or just search for the screwed version of any trending hip hop song on YouTube.

DJ Screw, the originator of chopped and screwed, explained that the slower tempos allowed him “to feel the music and so you can hear what the rapper is saying.” But this process allows for not only greater clarity, but also different interpretations from the listener. It’s like talking to someone normally versus while being sleep deprived. We’ve all had some weird conversations while being in that loopy state.

Slow the song down and see what happens. First half using San Holo-style drums and second half reminiscent of Porter Robinson, the Anki remix of Halsey’s “Colors” doesn’t do exactly that, but the spirit of chopped and screwed is evident. After unleashing an immense drop of arpeggiated synths, crushing metal, and bright electric guitar, the Bristol producer surprises with a slightly modified, much slower second drop that retains most of the elements from the first. Chopped and screwed songs allow you to hear the rapper’s declarations more clearly. That extra bit of time between each word also pushes you to consider each word with more attentiveness. Similarly, the second drop displays every component of the track with more prominence. The synths don’t rush by you in a blur anymore.

If Anki captures chopped and screwed’s juxtaposition of clarity and dimness, deadmau5’s “Raise Your Weapon” does so coming from the other end. Like “Colors,” the beginning half is also more upbeat; a progressive house tune standard to deadmau5’s output. Once it goes past the halfway point, “Raise Your Weapon” turns darkly electro house while taking Greta Svabo Bech’s vocals with it. The voice that at first accompanied you in the heavens is now trudging alongside you through hell. By slowing the song down and installing a nightmarish, hazy set of sounds, deadmau5 changes the lens we look through in appreciating Bech’s vocal contribution to the track.

Changing tempo may be just one of many tools available to producers, but it’s definitely one that can be implemented more frequently without sacrificing the functionality of dancing. More adventurous artistry results in a more open-minded audience. So why not change the pace a bit?

Written by Eugene Cheng