In a blizzard of crushed breaks and dissonant tones, Shelley Parker lands on Sneaker Social Club with her third album, Screed. Taking a forensic approach to noise sculpture and harmonic interference, the UK-based artist maintains a fringe perspective on the legacy of hardcore-derived dance music, extrapolating the renegade spirit of the earliest innovators into unexplored zones where sound art and sound systems collide.

Parker's path through the underground has been informed by her art school background, equally at home in the parallel world of galleries, installations and institutions as she is in the club. This dualistic dimension to her practice charges her music with an outsider spirit that manifests across 10 striking new productions on Screed. Focusing on the sound over an umbrella concept, it's an album that rejects comfortable, functional formulae in favour of original expression.

There are plenty of forthright structures for DJs and dancers to lock onto, from the militaristic techno thrust and tightly clipped breakbeat loop of 'Relentless' to the splayed boom bap guiding the giddy string sequences of 'Stargazer Lily'. The insistent pulse of 'April' meanwhile offers only the faintest of paths to navigate dense thickets of jerky, swinging static and metallic clamour. 'Georgian Wire' closes the record out on dissembled drum licks with a brittle patina - a scooped out closer with the skeletal remains of a rave dialect that's second nature to someone with as much skin in the game as Parker.

In amongst those tracks lies a wide-ranging tapestry of rhythmic, textural and emotional approaches, from head-knocking beatdowns to billowing clouds of dub techno, angular stabs and industrial smudges. On Screed, Parker proves herself to be peerless and purposeful in her quest to find new forms within the well-worn canon of hardcore and rave.