Review: Dogpatrol – Ya Playin Yerself

Label // Sneaker Social Club
Released // 21/02/2025

Mannheim’s clown prince of bass, Dogpatrol, returns to the ever brilliant Sneaker Social Club with another instant classic in the form of Ya Playin Yerself EP.

“1200kcal”, with its strange off grid feeling locked groove and a snaking bass, really sets the scene. It occupies that rare space between real meat and gristle, underground bass music, and good old-fashioned silliness. Lessons from Hardcore, Grime, and Garage are deftly executed here. Whether it’s dog barks, ice-laden eski-melodies, PS2 ambience or a flatulent bassline that sounds like a giant ‘Godzilla like’ caterpillar rampaging through Baden-Württemberg, Dogpatrol has an innate ability to summon the spirits of disparate bass oriented subgenres, like some type of sound system Voltron.

Pound shop robotics, ring modulated breaks and more dog barks open “Baby Flame” as we join our sweaty palms and dive into a smoked out world of seaside arcade laden grime. Think of staples like Skepta’s “Autopsy” and Davinche’s “Mega Drive“, but squeezed through a bit crusher—like meat through a sausage stuffer– it’s naughty, it’s fatty, you know you shouldn’t, but you want it, don’t you?

The title track takes an almost soulful turn at first. Opening with light and wafty pads reminiscent of so many Metalheadz releases, it first gives the track a sense of breath—only to brutally cut out, dropping you into a dark Keller of disorientating, clinical funk. Out of tune, weird as fuck and delighting in its off-key samples and pitched ramblings, “Ya playin yourself” teases the listener with depth and drama before pulling the rug right out from under them. 

“Offenbach HBF Riddim” completes the set with Dogpatrol at his maddest. It’s kind of a party breaks thing, I hasten to say it, but it almost reminds me of Big Beat. Now, usually I’d only say this with a sense of scorn, but “Offenbach HBF Riddim” is the exception that proves the rule. It just works! Perhaps it’s a touch of nostalgia, it reminds me of long ecstasy-filled halcyon days, escaping the main floor at the Source (zodiac, Oxford) coming up hard on Mitsis downstairs, Toby Kidd on the decks, doling out happy cuts like Deeds Plus Thoughts’ “The World’s Made Up Of This And That” and De La’s “Three Is the Magic Number” before catching myself and heading back upstairs for some more dark dystopian drum and bass.