Weed Diamond

Mirror Universe isn't a subsidiary of Siltbreeze, but the ultra-lo-fi production on this album's nine tracks makes it sound like it is. From the beginning, it's a bit like what you might get using an old reel-to-reel machine you picked up at a garage sale to listen to some unmarked tapes you found in a hidden compartment of your new apartment in an old building. But instead of eerie, scratchy recordings of family members goofing, you get the leftovers of an eccentric musician inventing lo-fi pop at the same time as — but completely independent of any knowledge of — Half Japanese and Daniel Johnston. Like an Eat Skull record with the vocals nearly buried in the mix, the production nonetheless doesn't obscure the melancholy-tinged joy coursing through each of Sweater Kids' Shaggs-esque melodies.