David Cloyd’s Cage of Water [Remixes] EP is one of those releases that feels way more intentional than the phrase “remix EP” usually implies. This isn’t a quick add-on, a streaming algorithm appeasement, or a “hey, remember this song?” moment. It’s a proper rethink. A pause. A deep breath. And then a slow, deliberate plunge back into one track to see what else is hiding under the surface.
If you’re even vaguely aware of David Cloyd’s recent comeback, you know this moment didn’t come out of nowhere. After more than a decade away, Red Sky Warning put him back on the map in a very real way including but not limited to SPIN coverage, Apple Music placements alongside actual heavyweights, and a fanbase that suddenly stretched across continents. “Cage of Water” was already one of that album’s emotional pillars, so handing it over to James Tabbi for reinterpretation feels less like a bonus and more like a trust fall.
Tabbi, best known as the frontman of The Heroic Enthusiasts, approaches the song like someone who actually listened to it instead of just hearing it. He locks onto the Tresillo rhythm at the core of the original and treats it like sacred text. The standout “Drop of Red Remix” builds on that pulse using Dumbak drums, giving the track this ancient, hypnotic throb that feels physical in your chest. It’s tense, almost claustrophobic, but in a way that makes sense for a song literally about feeling trapped.
What really sells the remix is the imagery behind it. Tabbi describes the song as a shark-in-an-aquarium story; powerful, alive, but boxed in behind thick glass, staring out at freedom it can’t reach. That idea bleeds into the sound design. Everything feels contained, pressurized, like it’s pushing outward but never quite breaking free. The other remixes follow the same philosophy: not trying to “improve” the song, but to interrogate it from different emotional angles.
Cloyd’s original inspiration grounds all of this. The song comes from his early days of parenthood; huge love, zero sleep, and that weird sense of being present but not fully connected to the world. His memory of staring at sharks in the Baltimore Aquarium while feeling fundamentally disconnected is painfully relatable, and it explains why “Cage of Water” works so well as a remix canvas. The metaphor is strong enough to survive being stretched, bent, and refracted.
Sonically, the EP stays cohesive thanks to Blake Morgan handling mastering duties, which keeps everything feeling like part of the same universe. Even as the textures shift and the mood deepens, it never feels scattered or slapped together. This is remixing as interpretation, not decoration.
On a personal note, this EP hits the same nerve for me that Porter Robinson’s Worlds Remixed did back in the day. That album worked because it treated remixing as a chance to emotionally reframe something you already loved, not just repackage it for the club. Cage of Water [Remixes] operates in that same lane. It assumes you care. It assumes you’re willing to sit with a feeling a little longer. And it rewards you for doing so.
At the end of the day, this EP feels less like a side quest and more like a conversation between two artists who genuinely respect the material and each other. It’s quiet, heavy, and deeply considered; proof that remix projects can still matter when they’re done for the right reasons. Cage of Water [Remixes] doesn’t beg for your attention; it just pulls you under and lets the pressure do the talking.
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About the Author
A tenured media critic known working as a ghost writer, freelance critic for various publications around the world, the former lead writer of review blogspace Atop The Treehouse and content creator for Manila Bulletin.
