Name a musician who has established a more immediately identifiable sound in the past couple of decades than Tobacco. It’s not easy to do! The guy came creepy-crawling out of the Pennsylvania woods in the early ’00s with Black Moth Super Rainbow, a collective of analog synth-obsessed weirdos who spun a particularly psychedelic brand of electro-pop. In recent years, Tobacco has put more effort into his solo albums, which generally sound like Black Moth with sturdier beats. This brings us to Sweatbox Dynasty, Tobacco’s latest effort, which finds him getting back to basics by recording tracks on a cassette deck. As a result, his songs are hazier and hissier than ever before. The low-end digs deeper into the digital mud, the vocals are smeared in syrup, and the synths stretch to the horizon. Sweatbox Dynasty is relentlessly disorienting—which Tobacco would consider a high compliment, no doubt. BEN SALMON