What we know of PCP could fit inside a crack vial, but a friend of ours once smoked a joint he was pretty sure was laced with angel dust and thought he was wetting his pants for the next five hours while strangers grew out of his skin and chilled at a Dave Matthews concert. Which is not to say that Carl Craig maneuvered Hot Chip’s monogamous single into the twilight zone or, god forbid, jam band land, but it does kind of make us want to piss ourselves. Out of excitement. Somebody hook up a mp3 so we can play this on the subway and stare at people. And if you missed it, read our Carl Craig feature story from FADER 42 right here.