Bone saws and a shortwave radio stuck between a dead frequency and the live broadcast of a roto-tiller in a scrap-metal landfill competes for your attention.
Obsessively-reiterated Farfisa runs, cheesy vocal fx, and a sense of besotted irresponsibility that brings to mind the proto-neo-retroistics of Fleshtones.
The soundtrack runs dayglo red with the work of contemporary artists mining the paisley vein, with some bona-fide artifacts thrown in for legitimacy’s sake.
Upbeat tunes meet moody lyrics about romantic disappointment delivered in a featherweight voice that keeps slipping into a high register without warning.