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​Mister Hands, the debut album from NARC, is the sound of Balimore's Nicky Smith bisecting and pinning to cork several the electric guitar's sonic flavors: the panning-stereo patty-cake blare of "Gangrene/Snickers"; the drowsy, Drunken Master splay of "Sweater"; "Don't Touch," which bear-hugs a meat and potatoes butt-metal riff while filtering everything through a thin skein of distortion; and "Charles Rats Get It On Olson," which suggests a cross between obsessive, stress-fracture inducing scale practice on an un-tuned axe and a haunted shutter camera trying to destroy itself. Dizzying, convulsive, meditative, and downright alien in spots—"The Bomb" pensively channels teletype clicks and sci-fi FX—Hands represents a confident start to Smith's career as a songwriter, even as the world of filmmaking beckons.

SOTC emailed with Smith about Mister Hands, why he calls himself "NARC," and plans for his first feature.

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