My first listen: waves of terror followed by rapid successions of smirking joy. This 7″ lurches. It howls. It thrashes. It flails around your living room, knocks over the urn your grandmother is in, and shovels spoonfuls of ashes in its mouth. And when its done, it makes you beg to see the tantrum all over again. This starts with electronic noise reminiscent of a jammed Pokemon cartridge; the alarm fades to the ticking of chunky guitar, and the frenzy is set in motion. “Airplanes” reeks of innovation, of stringy bass and guitar: slides up and down the entire neck, passing in and out of meters, ferocious washed-out sound, crackle and hiss of truly haunting feedback. The lyrics ramble on, indecipherable, like the chant of some wild Dionysian cult. “White Jeep” jumps to life from another cascade of Gameboy-esque curlicues, which seep into the rest of the track. The band immediately starts flexing its muscles with bassy riffs that brandish huge melodic jumps, stops so staccato you could track them to the millisecond. And the EP kicks out the only way it can: repetitive punching chord slashes that collapse into bent noise. If you can find yourself a hard copy, snatch that up or you’ll regret it.