A twosome week ago , The New Yorker publisheda lovely short essayabout the gonzo rocker , Ariel Pink . The whole conversation take up place in an SUV jump from Pink ’s Williamsburg hotel to a show in Staten Island . Pink hash over some recent social medium controversy and some other opinion on his own celebrity . The whole encounter could best be described as strange , which coincidently , is the everlasting adjective for Pink ’s raw record album , pom pom .
The first fourth dimension I listened to this haphazard , chaotic , beautiful tragedy , I was n’t immediately smitten . In fact , I ’d say my expression hovered between surprise and bemusement . Pom pom is an amalgamation of the sonically wonderful ( “ White Freckles ” ) and the truly bizarre ( “ Black Ballerina ” ) and at no point does it show any polarity of predictability . Without a doubt , there is no album like this in 2014 , and I recollect that ’s why after giving it one heed , I happen myself quickly return for another , and another , and another .
A lot of these tracks would n’t be out of place in say an 80 exercising television or as the haunt soundtrack of Adult Swim ’s nextToo Many Cooks - inspired existence . It shares that same sense of unexclusive experimentation . In some songs it succeeds completely and in others not as much , but disregarding it ’s an experience worth hear at least once — if not again and again . [ Spotify ]
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