Burial: The South London boy sent from above
Following the release of his two-track EP, Dreamfear/Boy Sent From Above, four fans pay homage to the infamously elusive producer who redefined electronic music
Since erupting onto the dubstep scene with ‘South London Boroughs’ (2005), released on Kode9’s label Hyperdub, Burial has maintained an air of mystery. Initially posting anonymously, the South London-based electronic music producer broke his radio silence in 2008 with a rather understated MySpace post: “My name’s Will Bevan.” With little more than his name and origin known, fans have long grasped at rumours to fill the gaps.
In 2013, speculation surfaced that he was Kieran Hebden, better known as Four Tet, another South London electronic artist. The theory was quickly debunked, leaving admirers once again in the dark. Like a toxic ex-lover, Burial has a way of re-emerging unexpectedly, blowing minds, and then vanishing just as abruptly, with no promise of return. There is undoubtedly something alluring about his unattainability and cryptic persona — perhaps a subject worth exploring in therapy.
In January, XL Recordings teased a short video on Twitter: a flickering screen accompanied by Burial’s signature cross logo and a snippet of music. A month later, he dropped his two-track EP Dreamfear/Boy Sent From Above on 9 February and today, the 12-inch vinyl editions became available. This debut release on the British label signalled his official departure from Hyperdub, the imprint that had long been home to his work. His penultimate track, ‘Unknown Summer’, was released in July 2023 via fabric Recordings.
To celebrate being blessed with more of his virtuosity, four fans deeply immersed in the electronic scene reflect on how Burial has shaped their relationship with music and why they consider him a cut above the rest.
The 'authentically authentic' artist
With new-age movements resurging in society, the quest to become — or at least appear — authentic feels more relevant than ever. Long before the rise of psychological jargon and self-care buzzwords, Burial embodied authenticity. When an artist creates purely for the love of creation, without concern for audience or sales, we experience something truly genuine. That sense of unfiltered expression radiates from Burial’s music and contributes immeasurably to his enduring appeal.
In 2017, Pitchfork published an article arguing that his album ‘Untrue’ (2007) was the most influential of the century. Though initially categorised as dubstep, Burial transcends genre altogether. His sound was unlike anything that had been heard before. The software he used, Sound Forge, was not designed for electronic production but rather for audio editing. It lacks a standard 4x4 beat grid, which is why his tracks resist conventional DJ mixing. Theoretically, his music is off-beat and out of time — yet it works effortlessly.
Last month, twenty-seven-year-old Amarante-based DJ and producer Nørbak (real name Artur Moreira) made his debut at Berghain, representing the rising Portuguese techno collective Hayes. Moreira cited Burial as a formative influence on his sound, recalling hours spent listening to his tracks while gaming. Even now, he continues to admire the electronic music artist’s non-conformist approach, crediting Burial for his attraction to “melancholic music.”
“I definitely lean towards darker tones when I do drone or ambient work, or even my synth leads for techno. I also have this obsession with high-end noise textures and vinyl crackle sounds — something very present in Burial’s music. Many have tried to recreate what he does, without much success. He’s just that special and unique.”
Burial is notorious for his unconventional approach to sampling. He has recorded from people singing in the shower through walls to preserve their privacy, captured the sound of bacon sizzling to emulate vinyl crackle, and sampled fragments of speeches from human rights campaigns. Featured on his latest EP, ‘Boy Sent From Above’ (2024), even uses the sound of a spray can being shaken as a transition cue. Such samples breathe life into his compositions, enabling seamless movement between moods, soundscapes, and genres.
Raised in Milton Keynes, thirty-one-year-old Chris Williams is recognised in London’s electronic music community for his work with Voices Radio, where he regularly contributes to Voices Radio under the alias Chris Himself. He has been studying Burial’s production techniques since his teenage years and notes that his own sampling style was shaped heavily by the South London producer.
“Things are much more interesting when you pull samples that don’t feel clean or polished — like they have a soul and meaning to them.”
Unlike most artists, Burial layers multiple tracks within a single composition, crafting intricate, interwoven soundscapes that pull listeners into his world. Each piece journeys through a rich spectrum of moods and emotions, making it feel as though he is guiding you by the hand through a full psychedelic trip — one that, fortunately, resolves with a renewed sense of clarity. The 13-minute-long song ‘Come Down to Us’ (2013) exemplifies this avant-garde approach, imbuing his music with a cinematic depth that both captivates and sparks the imagination.
Twenty-eight-year-old Londoner Kizzan Amer, professionally known as Ki ZEN, has been producing and performing drum and bass since 2015. A devoted admirer of Burial, he credits the acclaimed producer with shaping both his musical sensibilities and his approach to atmospheric composition. Amer described Burial as “the most London producer” for his extraordinary ability to immerse listeners in the city’s sonic landscape, irrespective of their location. Drawn to their profound cultural resonance with his hometown, he referenced ‘Raver’ (2016), ‘Night Bus' (2014), and ‘In McDonalds’ (2016) as his favourite records.
“I was absolutely absorbed by the sounds and atmospheres he created — especially the dark ones. My early music tried to replicate that dark, grimy, underground city vibe. It made me want to produce that dark future garage sound. He still inspires me today, even though I’m making a new sound. ”
An alchemy of emotions
The length of Burial’s tracks allows him to layer multiple, sometimes conflicting, emotions within a single piece, creating an intensely personal listening experience. His music invites introspection — a sonic mirror reflecting one’s inner turmoil. Perhaps this was why his tracks proved so difficult to mix: they resist passive consumption. For many fans who prefer not to sign up for therapy, the London producer offers a simpler, yet equally effective, alternative.
Techno DJ and Producer Moreira, aka Nørbak, admitted that he counts himself among them.
“As cheesy as it sounds, for me it was always the way he conveyed feelings I didn’t have words for.”
Originally from Treviso in northeastern Italy, 26-year-old PhD student Vera Sales has been a devoted fan of Burial for many years, noting ‘Claustro’ (2019) as her top track. When she is not busy researching the agency of rats in shaping urban health inequalities in Rio de Janeiro, you can find her soaking up new sounds on the dance floor.
The electronic artist has shaped her music taste so much so that Sales often finds herself searching for “fast yet slow melodies with deep yet subtle basses, a lot”. Reflecting on how he carved out such a special place in her heart, she described the artist’s almost psychic ability to peer into the souls of a whole generation and translate that disillusionment into sound.
“Burial has managed to channel the very pain and frustration of people acknowledging the failure of our system: industrial landscapes, decaying machines, voices in the dark. Every Burial song is, for me, a journey of conflicting emotions — spans of light in a dark tunnel, spasms of sadness, reality, and acceptance within a crescendo of melodic disillusion.”
In a 2012 interview with cultural theorist Mark Fisher for The Wire, Burial reflected on his struggles with depression and described finding solace in darkness. He recounted how he “used to dream about being put in the bins” without his mother’s knowledge as the rain hammered down. As he imagined being bound in a plastic bag, he affirmed that these visions brought him a surprising sense of calm and comfort.
This creation of paradox — joy and despair intertwined — has become a defining feature of Burial’s artistry. London-based DJ Chris Williams, also known as Chris Himself, agreed that it was this emotional ambiguity that made the producer’s work so singular.
“There was a quality to the tracks where they didn’t feel sad or happy — they sat in this strange space in between. A juxtaposition between hope and fear. There were very few artists who could create in that middle ground, and Burial was incredible at it. It was a beautiful quality and one of the purest forms of artistry.”
The heir to ‘hauntology’
Coined by French-Algerian philosopher Jacques Derrida in Spectres of Marx (1994), the term ‘hauntology’ is a portmanteau of ‘haunting’ and ‘ontology,’ endeavouring to describe how the ghosts of lost futures haunted the present. Originally formed within a political context, the theory explicates how the 'ghosts' of the future haunt the present, manifesting as a yearning for irretrievable pasts and future ‘what could have been’s.
In the 2000s, critics such as Mark Fisher and Simon Reynolds breathed new life into this theory, applying it to identify a particular musical and aesthetic movement.
More recently, we have witnessed hauntological impulses through the youth’s fascination with and resurgence of film cameras, Y2K vintage clothing, and archival clips from the ‘better days of UK rave.’ In 2023, NME reported that vinyl sales had reached their highest levels in the UK since 1990.
The ‘grey area’ between hope, longing, and fear, evident in Burial’s artistry, has led critics like Fisher to associate him with the hauntology tradition. In the 2012 interview mentioned earlier, Burial admitted to Fisher that, although he had never been to an illegal rave or festival without mobile phones, he had heard stories from his older brother and dreamt of those moments. When listening to his favourite producers and DJs, many of whom had already passed, the producer felt overwhelmed with sadness.
In this sense, Burial’s tracks serve as love letters to the unpolished energy of 1990s rave culture, blending tacky trance-style vocals with rough, old-school breaks. Though he has never experienced that world first-hand, he still masterfully resurrects that spirit so vividly in his work. This DIY style is something that Williams continues to regard as the most commendable aspect of the artist’s work.
“There was a level of DIY in UK music that Burial encapsulated again at a time when we were losing it. It was especially important for electronic music to feel organic and human-made. Many tried, but it was difficult to achieve.”
The EP, Dreamfear/Boy Sent From Above (2024), immaculately synthesises that early rave energy and DIY spirit. Across the UK, party organisers and producers alike have been striving to emulate this pre-digital era, before mobile phones and TikTok trends, when music and community were the sole focus. Some have succeeded more effectively than others, but one thing remains clear: Burial continues to be the pioneer of this movement.