No Visitors

(Rural Isolation Project) LP $11.00 (Out-of-stock)

The shadowy, bleary-eyed Austin crew lead by Matt Turner (passed out on the lawn) serves up Texas-style sludge with layer upon layer of in-the-red fuzz, feedback, vomit, claustrophobia, no eye contact, distorted 808 beats, wind-up glam drums, suspicious voices from other rooms, Tejano transmissions, and EDP Wasp synthesizer. Includes a wind tunnel cover of George Brigman’s “DMT,” for all the heads. Past involvements include Austin psych stumblers Rubble, Same Sac and ’90s free noise questionables Abrasion Ensemble. 180-gram, deep purple vinyl. Edition of 300.


Dead September

(Rural Isolation Project - 003) LP $10.50 (Out-of-stock)

Screaming wind-tunnel guitars and motorik floor tom and snare (“Bleed Out”), ear-splitting electro-punk mush-mouth (“White Witch”), eerie psychedelia (“Dead Birds”), and blackened industrial techno that slithers through most of side two into the skull-cracking closing dirge of “Walk Into The Sea.” Abrasive and perversely catchy. White vinyl. Edition of 300


Let’s Hang Out

(Rural Isolation Project) LP $10.50 (Out-of-stock)

Syrup-thick bass licks run amok. Messy, scratching and screeching effects cut across fuzzed-out space noise. The bash-your-brains-in pounding of the drums rounds things off. Ugly, painful, whacked-out sludge, sure, but this is Quttinirpaaq’s second full length album this year, so it’s gotta go further (and it does). Pounding, minimal hypno-riffs extend past the horizon, shards of guitar feedback fall in and out of the landscape, spiky electronics fizz and pop like a mellotron buried under a mound of Popul Vuh records. Clear vinyl with red splatters. Color insert. Edition of 300


JT Whitfield

(Rural Isolation Project - RIP004) LP $10.50 (Out-of-stock)

Four tracks of drifting malevolent electronics that grind slowly down the hall as heavy doors slam and crowbars crash on concrete. Ghosts stumble through hissing steam while muffled electronics pulse from several floors up. Intermittent rhythms break through the shadows before returning to the thick fog. Blacker than a landlord’s soul. Edition of 300