Swedish producer Bella Boo’s music usually tips toward the wistful end of house, favoring ethereal moods over sweaty grooves; see, for instance, 2018’s “Magnolia,” a starry-eyed paean to raving that drifts like a dandelion tuft. But on “Dancehall,” the standout track from her latest EP for Stockholm’s Studio Barnhus, she lets loose. The first two minutes unfurl with druggy abandon: The drums are big and beefy, landing with a real medicine-ball wallop, while an ascending synth glissando rises vertiginously upward. But then, a curious thing happens: The song softens. Pensive piano chords bring back some of the melancholy of those early Bella Boo releases; murmured, largely indistinguishable vocals open up a space of interiority on the dancefloor. All this happens without the drums losing any of their force. They keep banging insistently away, yet the gentleness of the rest of the song rises and enfolds them, like a warm, friendly hug.
