I'm not really on top of this one. This record Cycles by Californian odd bod Worn-Tin came out in February. Never mind, it still sounds fresh to me. Full of that idiosyncratic otherness that marked out Barrett, Bowie, Bolan and Beck in turn as singular talents. Not that I'm saying that it's destined to change the world as they all did to one degree or other. Still, it's a very notable record.
Altogether a queasy take on familiar pop forms. It's not clear if Worn-Tin, (real name Warner Hiatt), is entirely well. According to a recent Facebook post he likes drawing on the wall with crayons. You're not sure if this is all rather contrived, (not that there's anything wrong with that of course, see the people listed above), but the man certainly has a rare pop instinct and sensibility that deserves attention.
The production is sparse and the California sun shines relentlessly down. It's not a flawless record by any means. Some of the songs just don't gel, while others just go out too far, like a badly advised and incoherent drug trip. But the good songs are really good! Although this is offbeat, at heart it also has the purest love for the very best pop records.
Something of the missing link between Donovan, Nilsson, Head- era Monkees and the Flaming Lips, you may feel like you've had a sugar rush if you listen through to Cycles at one sitting. But I'd suggest you'll probably go back to it at a later date just to check that you heard what you thought you heard. Respect where it's due.
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