Throughout the last five years, a quiet, reclusive south London producer sat in his bedroom dreaming. He dreamt of jungle's embers and UK garage's heyday and mourned their passing. To console himself, he took the most rudimentary of studio equipment — a simple audio editor — and poured his heart into it. The intricate rhythmic and textural results became Burial's eponymous debut album.
By laying his sorrow bare, Burial touched people, reaching an audience no one would ever have anticipated dubstep — a dark, post-UK garage niche — could reach. What began in his bedroom in south London ended up celebrated in national newspapers and rock press end-of-year Top Tens.
In an era of mass-access online music, while the "long tail" grows longer, the successful "head" gets smaller. Record companies are getting more conservative, signing safer and safer acts. How wonderful is it then, that an album like Burial can succeed without a press officer, hundreds of interviews or a sizable marketing spend? Dreams do come true.