The third installment in Geographic North’s 7-inch series finds a two-piece Tarentel presenting two lovely nuggets, digging into their trademark mesmerizing grooves as well as finding more queasy ambient territory. Side A cuts jarringly from one stomping groove to another, incorporating heavily compressed, multilayered drums to create a dense rhythm over an increasingly chaotic layering of sirens, vocals, and feedback. These grow into a miniature sonic blast that is rigorously composed but freeing in its radically open textures.

On side B, jagged blasts of electronic noise and feedback jostle with sparse, tense guitar figures that never coalesce or resolve, before breaking down into waves of delay. The atmosphere is threatening from start to finish, suggesting a sound environment that could explode into virtually anything, the music stalking the surface of the mint green marble vinyl on which this was pressed searching for any escape. These sounds are familiar by now—how they can still sound so fresh and striking is the magic of this band. 9/10 -- Travis Bird (25 August, 2010)