Aatocaster – superstition (studio works ’23-’25)
From the underground corners of Los Angeles, the enigmatic Aatocaster rises from the shadows. In the pursuit of a cult-following as opposed to mainstream hubris, Aatocaster forms jagged soundscapes of crystalline digitalization, where post-punk rhythms and shoegaze ambiance collide with glass-shattered electronica. The result is the mind-bending superstition (studio works ’23-’25), an abrasive but eye-opening dance through fields of data compiled together into some sort of experimental world. Even the artwork surrounding this release is noisy and degraded. Intentionally unsettling, superstition challenges us to push our boundaries past surface level – a deeper dive into this album will reward the listener with a mysterious, but cerebral lyrical presence.
superstition opens with “the mirror,” a song that floats into your sub-conscious like a half-remembered memory. “the mirror” is a perfect title, because alongside a spooky vocal presence, this song sounds a lot like a mirror shattering. Glinting keyboards ding like shards of glass hitting the floor, high-pitched and intense, while far-off vocals set an otherworldy mood. “the mirror” feels like the end of a JRPG – your party suspended in time in some lifeless crystal world. It’s part surreal and part way-too-tangible and feels like the perfect way to kick off this album. “kept me away” feels like a perfect follow up – a boxy snare drum keeps the music rooted, while a ’90s-esque dance-adjacent backbone slowly melds into existence while highly-processed words repeat a mantra: “it’s a lie to the world that kept me away.” Unsettling, but relatable.
You’ll find this aesthetic crackling across the entirety of superstition, bubbling with glitchy, indescribable energy that recalls The King of Limbs era Radiohead. “Pendant” is an album highlight, and a rare beam of sunlight in this otherwise inorganic world. Aatocaster never strays from the robotic electronica that populates the rest of superstition, but he uses them to a different effect. Drum machine percussion blips and bloops while a cold, but comforting vocal presence lays overtop. Splashes and stabs of arpeggiated synths provide a spectrum of light here – like a stained glass window in the otherwise blinding bright lights of digital heaven. “Smirk” is another album highlight – a lot of songs tout themselves as “late night drive” fare, but this really could (and should) be experienced for the first time while you’re doing 60 down a rain-soaked highway. Dangerous but with an undeniable rhythm, the progression and sonic palette here truly come together to create something blood-rushing. “Superstition,” too, deserves a highlight – distorted vocals burst and bloom overtop swirling electronic ambiance, finding Aatocaster yearning to come to a shared understanding of the world with a loved one.
Conversely, songs like “a seer’s port (c2k)” exist to find the “devotion inside distortion” – there’s certainly a liminal aspect to the songs on superstition, and the disorienting percussion and vocal effects on “a seer’s port (c2k)” are a perfect example of using those tools in mind-altering ways. “Don’t Stop” is full of slithering snake noise and scissor-chopped arpeggiators, where follow up track “don’t wait” is a stuttering meditation. Album tracks like these often exist to provide context to the more “palatable” options – but this syntax is important nonetheless. The challenging moments on superstition are equally as important as the highlights and force us to be attuned to this particular moment in time.
superstition (studio works ’23-’25) is available now. Aatocaster created a digital art gallery and zine (which honestly explain a lot and give an early ’00s glitch art vibe to this entire project). Check it out via Soundcloud and also be sure to visit their new website – aatocaster.com.
Categorised in: Album Reviews
This post was written by Nick Sessanna