There’s no way to replicate a Here Comes a Big Black Cloud show on wax. The transplanted New Orleans squad is kind of like a harder, faster version of the MarchFourth Marching band—a collective that puts as much emphasis on dancing, costumes and theatrics as it does its scratchy, garage-punk-funk musical gumbo.

But if you zapped an HCABBC show with a magic gamma-ray-gun that transmitted real-world spectacles into adorable little slabs of vinyl, this 7-inch would come out the other end.

The first release on HCABBC’s own Stankhouse Records label, this self-titled quickie doesn’t manage to fill either side of the record with its two songs, but even in their brevity, both tracks transmit the listener back into the basement. Amid the low-fi buzz, one can almost see HCABBC in action—its members waving their freak flags proudly, spinning out into the crowd.

It’s hard to pick any lyrics from an HCABBC song, because vocals—along with dizzy, buzzing circus keys and a surprisingly tight, funky rhythm section—are just another layer of high-speed fuzz scraping the boundaries of the four track’s red zone. For those who listen for HCABBC’s buried melodic departures with an attentive ear, there’s plenty here to love; if you’ve seen the group live, it works like a time capsule.