The Transplant Mountains, a sick little UK outfit, offer up such a sick side of sax-throttling dissonance you wonder where Chapels can even go from there. But I’ll get to them in a minute because the Mountains deserve more exploration. Aside from the static crackle and sax, I don’t know what I’m hearing, at all, of course, so I’ll just describe the feeling: Abject terror. Then meth flashes corrode everything and you’re stranded in the desert like Walter White accompanied by the guy from Sax Ruins. From there it’s a long stretch of tension before a soothing drone takes over. What an enchanting lil’ neon forest of noise they’ve constructed. Wonderful-sounding mix, too, for a tape. Now, Chapels: This is a lot like that RCBNN noise tape at first. Then, I think I… yes, I think I hear a band in there, maybe. Whatever it is, it disappears into a sea of mid-level layercake that sounds synth-based to these ears. Wherever they get their juice, I like it, though I could use more distinction between the elements that make up the tracks. This one gains momentum as it progresses, however, so follow it to the day of your judgement.