More Mudhoney than Mooney Suzuki, Soft Targets push their sloppy garage rock like they stole it and don’t give a fuck. Above The Arctic Circle wears its early-’90s stylistic contrivances like a faded T-shirt, indifferent to how ratty it looks or how much of its smell sneaks in. The band’s take-it-or-leave-it approach keeps it from waffling on the modernize-it fence, and the absence of Jesus Christ poses reminds us that there were bits of the Seattle movement worth returning to. (www.roostercow.com)–Steve Forstneger