From the stubborn sock puppet of Taylor Burgess
(rec. traxx: 4, 8)
After releasing eight albums in eight weeks, J Riley Hill took a full year to record this whacked-out studio pop — heaping on synthesizers, banjos and trombones and wrapping the full-length up with a guitar solo finale worthy of sending you soaring over rainbows
. Hill’s deft wordplay jumps around from losing the game
to the impossibility of you experiencing his dreams to tearing off your skin and jumping in the fire cuz it feels so good. Serious WTF stuff that feels great bouncing around your intestines.