Atlum Schema, Atlum Schema

I’ll admit I didn’t have high hopes for this album, a CD-R with a laser-printed CD sleeve and an unwieldy, pretentious-sounding name; I figured it was headed for a quick listen and then a toss on the ever-growing pile on the desk. Atlum Schema frontman/one-man show Andy Mort turns out to have some impressive surprises up his sleeve, however.

On Atlum Schema, he soars and spirals through eleven tracks’ worth of dramatic, high-minded songcraft that brings to mind Peter Gabriel at times (“Closing the Doors”), Baby Bird at others (“Gunfight At the O.k. Corral”), and even a less-precious Radiohead (“Feeling About for Conformity in the Dark”, “Ink Star”) every once in a while. He layers swooping electronics and a heavy keyboard/organ haze over his alternately defiant and angelic vocals, throws on some interesting beats, and the result is a blindside shot of murky, impassioned retro-’80s pop.

Through it all, he’s so damn intense and sincere and socially-conscious (I think?) lyrically that I can’t even poke a stick at it; his lyrics work nicely, evoking an almost irresistible urge to punch the air and march along, but stay vague and anti-Big Evil enough to be mysterious. On some of the tracks on here, like the aforementioned “Gunfight,” Mort’s delivery is seriously reminsicent of New Model Army’s Justin Sullivan — it’s strident and fearless, even if I’ve got no clue what, exactly, Mort is railing against.

By that point, though, it no longer matters anyway, and I’m just drifting along with the swooning, thundering music. By the time Atlum Schema rolls on to the beautiful roar of “Warning Light,” I can’t turn away. It’s sweet and wondering and furiously angry, all at once; maybe what Mort’s railing against, in the end, is the world at large?