Marcus Watkins — For Those Who Crave

There is something quietly deliberate about For Those Who Crave. Across three tracks and just under twenty minutes, Marcus Watkins avoids the temptation to overstate its intentions. Instead, For Those Who Crave occupies that increasingly valuable space in contemporary house music where atmosphere, repetition and groove are allowed to carry the weight. Released through Du.Me Records, the EP sits somewhere between deep house and the softer, more spacious end of chill house, with its three tracks moving at a restrained 116–118

BPM.

The title suggests desire, but not necessarily urgency. For Those Who Crave feels less interested in the immediate gratification of the dancefloor than in the slower process of establishing a mood and allowing it to settle. There is a sense of music designed for people who understand that house does not always need to announce its intentions. Sometimes the most effective tracks are the ones that simply keep the room moving while gradually altering its temperature.

Opening with “Voices from Above”, Watkins establishes the EP's most contemplative side. At 116 BPM, it is also the slowest piece in the set, giving the release an appropriately measured entrance. The title itself carries an almost spiritual suggestion, and it provides an interesting conceptual doorway into a record that seems preoccupied with elevation, distance and suspension. Rather than treating deep house as a collection of genre signifiers, Watkins frames it as a state of mind: music that exists somewhere between physical movement and inward reflection.

“Da Gojo” shifts the centre of gravity slightly. At 118 BPM, it introduces a more direct sense of movement without abandoning the EP's understated character. Its position in the sequence is important: after the comparatively reflective opening, the track functions as the record's central pulse, giving the EP a stronger sense of forward motion. It is the kind of sequencing decision that makes a short release feel more like a continuous thought than three unrelated tracks placed next to each other.

The closing “49 Revolutions Around the Sun” is perhaps the most evocative title of the three, and its seven-minute-plus runtime gives Watkins the most room to stretch the record's central idea. At 118 BPM and in F-sharp minor, it brings the EP to its longest and most inward-looking conclusion. The title introduces a sense of time passing — almost an entire lifetime reduced to a number of rotations — and that idea gives the release a subtle emotional dimension. What initially appears to be a straightforward house record begins to read as something more reflective: a soundtrack for repetition, cycles and the strange comfort of returning to familiar places.

What makes For Those Who Crave interesting is precisely its refusal to behave like a statement piece. There is no obvious attempt to reinvent deep house, nor does Watkins seem particularly interested in pushing the format toward maximalist club territory. Instead, the EP works within a narrow but fertile range, concentrating on continuity rather than contrast. The BPMs barely move across the three tracks, and that consistency reinforces the sense that this is intended to be experienced as a single arc rather than a showcase of radically different ideas.

That restraint can be both the record's strength and its defining limitation. For Those Who Crave does not appear designed to overwhelm the listener; its ambitions are more modest and, consequently, more dependent on atmosphere and context. It makes the most sense as part of a longer listening environment — a warm-up, a late-night transition, a drive after dark, or one of those moments when the distinction between listening music and functional club music becomes deliberately blurred.

There is also something refreshing about the EP's sense of scale. At 19 minutes, Watkins does not stretch the concept beyond what it can sustain. Each track is given enough room to breathe, but the release remains compact enough to retain its identity. The result is less a grand declaration than a carefully drawn mood board: three tracks, a consistent rhythmic language, and a title that hints at a more personal emotional territory beneath the surface.

In an era when electronic music often feels compelled to demonstrate its credentials through complexity, For Those Who Crave takes another route. It understands that repetition can be expressive, that restraint can be a compositional choice, and that house music's emotional power often comes from what it leaves unresolved.

Watkins ultimately offers a release built around continuity rather than climax. For Those Who Crave is music for listeners who are already inside the groove — and who have little interest in being told where to go next.

BUY