the death of pop

Again another unintentionally happened to trip over this occurrence, a damn fine release with the unerring ability to sneak up behind you and catch you on the unawares, this is the death of pop who alas we have absolutely no information about. Safe to say the dizzily out of focus opining lazy eye lilt that adores ‘busy with the boys’ is ghosted in a crooked whimsy which in truth shouldn’t by accounts work. But it does and what first sounds on initial hearing to be some daintily weaved slice of impish pop no doubt referenced by an over excitable listening soiree whereupon the chosen turntable playlist features a smattering of a very youthful Space, some White Town and the occasional flashing of the Soft Parade, it soon becomes obvious on further investigation that what we have here is the falling down through a kaleidoscopic rabbit hole whereupon elements of Murmurs of Irma and Giant Paw gather joyously to prime the palette with a peculiar psyche potion.  

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