Anyone who’s followed club culture for the past decade has undoubtedly noticed some changes in the DJ booth. Once limited to two turntables, a mixer, and dozens of heavy crates full of vinyl, technology has provided DJs with a veritable panoply of new toys and gadgets that make their jobs easier. Finding that rare break or classic party rockin’ joint used to require hours of digging through dusty bins of 12”s and 45s at record shops and thrift stores; now that same rare groove can be shared, downloaded onto a laptop, and imported to any number of newfangled DJ software programs in minutes, ready to be rinsed out for packed clubs without the DJ ever having to touch a piece of vinyl or lug a single flight case into the booth. But while technology has opened a whole new world of opportunities for DJs of every musical genre, it has also led to a flood of newjacks with laptops inundating nightclubs with little more skill than the ability to point and click a mouse. Accessibility breeds simplicity, and as a result the skillset of scratching, beat juggling and even mixing and blending—once prerequisites of aspiring DJs—have grown increasingly obscure and underappreciated. In short, the ARTFORM of DJing seems to have gotten lost in the “mix” of our ever-expanding digital age.

Fortunately for connoisseurs of raw turntable music, the legendary Rob Swift (formerly of pioneering turntablist crew The X-Ecutioners) has recently released his twelfth solo-project, The Architect, once again blessing the subterranean realms of independent Hip Hop with a dose of razor sharp cuts and scratches over gritty, sample-heavy, boom bap beats that would even have the likes of Stephen Hawking bobbing his head so hard he’d need help getting back into his wheelchair.

Formatted like a symphonic concerto—broken down into three movements complete with an overture, interludes, and even an intermission—Architect is a meticulously crafted turntable masterpiece, with Rob Swift skillfully cutting, shredding, slap-chopping and otherwise manipulating every sound and sample at his disposal. Nothing is safe with Swift behind the wheels: classic Hip Hop soundbytes, snippets of instructional dialogue, and swirling orchestral samples are interwoven over the pulsating rhythms of turntable drumming (manipulation of isolated kick and snare sounds to create brand new drum patterns) to construct one continuous, cohesive composition.

While there are a few individual standout tracks—check the dramatic string-and-horn-fueled opus “Spartacus” or the ominous downtempo suspense of the title - The Architect is best enjoyed from beginning to end. To quote a line from the album’s lone guest emcee, Breez Evahflowin, “The way it’s laid down don’t shuffle this LP, the truth is you’ll miss somethin’ that’s healthy…” This album as a whole is more than the sum of its parts; its sequencing, conceptualization and continuity as a composition in its own right rather than a compilation of individual songs contribute to its genius.

As refreshing as it is, The Architect is unlikely to return the artistic side of DJing to its former prominence in urban culture. There will be no paradigm shift causing button pushers and mouse clickers to rush out and learn the once essential skills of cutting and scratching. But Rob Swift and DJs like him continue to hold the torch for those of us who continue to abide by the old school mantra, “What is a DJ if he can’t scratch?!”