7.15.19 by Ryan Masteller
Christmas punched me in the mouth waaay early this year, because it’s July and not December. (I know some of you do that “Christmas in July” thing, but it’s wrong, not to mention sinful.) But I woke up this morning and my tree was up (fake tree) and the decorations were hung and there was a single small present beneath the tree. I was in disbelief, and I had a split lip from the punch, but I decided to roll with it and approach this miracle as something that was truly meant to be. I approached the brightly wrapped package and took a look at the name on it. “The World,” it simply said. Who am I to disagree? I ripped it open.
To my complete non-surprise, it was a cassette tape. The size gave it away, plus I happen to do a bit of writing about cassettes, so there you go: non-surprise. What WAS surprising was the fact that said cassette tape contained an unreleased Adderall Canyonly album, and you know events like new Adderall Canyonly albums should be treated with the kind of respect you reserve for something like Christmas. AC moves in mysterious ways, and sometimes those ways include allowing material to gestate over a long period of time. Such is the case with “Influenza 10,” recorded in Portland, Oregon, in 2010 with a Tascam and a bunch of other likely obsolete electronics that have probably been sold for scrap at this point. That’s just the Adderall Canyonly way – all those electronics combine to form future wastescapes where robots have claimed Earth as their own and Snake Plissken can’t get off his island. Obsoleteness is not an obstacle.
And no, “Influenza 10” is not a re-release of some classic album on a weird anniversary – it’s not “remixed and remastered” but “finally mixed and finally mastered,” seeing the light of day after all these years. It bears all the delightful hallmarks of AC’s work: tortured electronics, ominous tones, queasy rhythms, and fractured viewpoints of futures dangerously close at hand. Did I say “delightful”? Yeah, I meant “delightful,” especially if you’re into stuff like “tortured electronics.”
So be vigilant: you too, like me, may wake up one day with a Christmas sock to the kisser at the wrong time of year; I bring you this warning as a public service announcement. Always be prepared! “Influenza 10” is out July 23 via Personal Archives in an edition of 50 (pro-duped, white shells/black imprint, 2-sided 3-panel j-card). Listen to “Floating Master” below to wet your whistle.