You’ve heard it before. The drums feel like anvils dropped on your skull. The bass is a squishy bubble of mad distortion. There’ll probably be some cowbells, and there might be someone trilling in sultry Portuguese or a burst of wordless, stoic alpha-male grunts. Audio creatine, max-protein milk for your ears, these tracks radiate power. File under “techno that pumped so much iron it became as ripped as Joey Swoll.” I’m talking about phonk, maybe the most curious case of a genre totally losing