I pressed play on “Chasing the Sub Lime” by Michael Vettraino and within seconds I was inside its world—a place where neon synths drift, rhythms pulse, and your brain is pulled in both directions. The opening feels gentle, like pulling back a curtain to let in weird light, but soon a steady groove locks in, and you feel caught in motion even if you’re standing still. Vettraino’s production mixes playful boldness and restraint: there’s space in how he lays down layers, so nothing feels too crowded, and yet every texture matters.
His voice slides from calm observation to a sharper edge, so lines about algorithms or filtered views land harder than they seem at first. The chorus latches on—you’ll hum it without thinking—and then you’ll rewind just to catch a phrase you missed. There’s wit in the wordplay, and bite in the critique, but he keeps it charismatic. The video adds new dimension: glasses that project internet realities, creeping cookies sprouting like absurdities, and visual commentary that makes you pause mid-scroll. It amplifies the track without turning it into something distant.
One thing I admire is how the song wears its intention but doesn’t shove it at you. You come for the groove, stay for the insight. After a few listens, I found new things each time, little details in synth lines or lyric twists I hadn’t caught. If I were nitpicking, I might wish for one more instrumental break or a slightly different mix balance in parts—but those are small quirks, not flaws.
At the end I felt energized and thoughtful, wanting to hear more from Vettraino and to sit with this song again. It’s rare when a track gives you dance energy and gives you something to chew on. If you like music that surprises you and sparks ideas, “Chasing the Sub Lime” will stick with you.
