ATT Corp | The More You Feel, The Less You Live
Strange Therapy 
ATT Corp (A True Terror Corporation) are a duo that build up a world, not only to tear it down, but also to simulate and transcend it, as if it were a reflection. And this reflection is in the hue of cement, and of the contents of waste bins in the night, across streets littered with truths, grotesque truths, truths used against themselves. The sound is everyday objects inverted and background motions, like ghosts stretching towards their former situations. So, there is despair here, and ATT Corp use a plethora of methods, both abstract and succinct, to lure the listener, or reader (more appropriately), into a space that demands a sort of patience. In fact, it’s almost like Andrei Tarkovsky’s 1979 film Stalker, in that it succeeds even when it’s lined up against itself. And just like in that film, there are moments of clarity within the void. Like when “Erta Ale” breaks into a more straightforward, techno beat. It’s welcomed because it’s a reflective universe we can relate to. There is more recognition throughout, and there is much more annihilation. So, be prepared.
The Uptights | It Is For Them That The Lights Twinkle
Keepsecretrecords 
From Oslo, Norway, The Uptights create lo-fi bleakness that destines towards indie bliss. Their sound is soft and hard, with landscape expansion as a serious effort. The band’s last release was 10 years ago, and in between, the group kept a similar mindset: within all this technology and futurism, why go anywhere near it? The new record contains 10 tracks that seemingly play over a second soundtrack, one that is like a memory frozen in space. The upfront/prominent/first soundtrack has edgy scraps that cackle and hiss, boomeranging and echoing within containers that are purposefully not altered. Songs like “Days” have circular drone that is only whispered, while “Vault II” drifts across the Norwegian Sea, broken strings, busted rooftops, salt water, and isolation. There are bangers, too, like “Rings Hollow” and “Arthaus Rock,” songs that remind one of My Bloody Valentine and Sonic Youth, but only slightly because The Uptights are for sure original, and we’re glad they’re back.
Rupert Lally | Maniac’s Almanac
Spun Out Of Control 
There’s some music that is destined for cassette tapes and boom boxes—the tones, the atmosphere that surrounds the layers and altered states, it’s predetermined. Rupert Lally’s love letter to slasher films of the ’70s and ’80s, Maniac Almanac, is surprisingly lush, as if created purely for the soft hum of a cheap old, shitty cassette player. This is a tape that will last you years and decades of playing. It is analog symbiosis. It is subtle, the compositions moist and restrained, but direct, swirling in the rain of the unknown, around the horror that swims through the grainy staircase. There are 12 tracks, one for each month of the year, and each pure in its completion and direction. “February—Love You To Death” is minimal techno at its artiest; “June—A Midsummer Night’s Scream,” the companion piece to a futuristic Texas Chainsaw Massacre turned spiritual club jaunt. If you like listening to cassette tapes, this is the purest of pure. Walkable, light, you can pick it up and down, round different corners of the table. This is music is that is physical and real.
Arelseum | III
Sleeping Giant Glossolalia 
Arelseum is New York City extreme vets Ryan Lipynsky (Unearthly Trance, Serpentine Path) and Colin Marston (Behold… The Arctopus, Krallice, Dysrhythmia) digging into the void with feeling and texture through electronics and field recordings. It’s the sound of an unknown position. Which is pretty spot on given the past year and half we’ve all lived through. While dynamism is the typical calling card of Marston (albeit in a completely original way), and punishing psychedelic vibes are common in Lipynsky’s efforts, Arelseum finds common ground in a place of neither. It’s a strange sound, offering ideas via notions, and is certainly not strange for strangeness’ sake. No, it’s strange because it just is. It’s not quite anything altogether, and that’s what makes it interesting and free. Fractions define the mood; suggestions are given; combinations work into form after repetition and simulation. It’s frightening, and peaceful, too, because you can listen to it, and that is peace in and of itself.
