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Matt Berry returns, this time emerging from his velvet time machine with a suitcase full of pop psychedelia worthy of a light show and some very stiff drinks, and you are but a wide-eyed innocent allowed to hang out at his groovy pad.
Geordie makes good use of a voice that's as smooth as silk and a delivery that promises the utmost reliability, but it's not making a discernible effort to distract from the wonderful glitchiness and complication that hides in the background.
Washes of sound surround you as half-heard vocals intertwine with half-remembered melodies.
Sparkling clean Jamaican sounds from this soulful Los Angeles outfit can extend your summer by a few weeks and keep you warm through the winter, and well, it's good for any season you'd like to infect with good vibrations.
As expected, it sounds like the first half of a Ray Bradbury novel, where the bright colors, joyful sounds, and easy smiles let you know something is deeply, deeply wrong, or possibly just inexplicable, or mysterious, but unabashedly psychedelic.
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