Margaret Dygas

𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝘿𝙮𝙜𝙖𝙨’ “𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣 11” drifts in with her signature sense of negative space, rhythmic ambiguity, and deep-listening hypnosis — a quietly radical entry in the Perlon universe, built from subtle tension and slow-burning micro-movements.

The two long-form pieces feel alive, almost breathing: percussion appears in soft, irregular pulses, bass murmurs beneath the surface, and textures shift like light on water. Dygas sculpts a rhythmic language that’s both minimal and richly organic, guiding the ear toward details that emerge only with time and close attention.

As the grooves unfold, they reveal a rare balance of warmth and restraint — dancefloor material on the surface, but with an introspective core that rewards repeated, focused listening. “Even 11” stands as one of her most refined distillations: deep, patient, and unmistakably Dygas.