Long story short, a chance eight-hour layover at LAX and a timely @arielxpink Instagram post led to my witnessing Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti corrupt Hollywood Forever Cemetery last September. Of all the wonderful, perverted things that went down among the dearly departed that night, Jorge Elbrecht’s sudden injection into the group on lead guitar remains foremost in my mind. The next Haunted Graffiti record couldn’t come soon enough.
Curiously, there’s a good chance that the music world will never see it. What has instead materialized is a batshit Ariel Pink “solo” double album, pom pom, paradoxically culled from the most collaborative recording process of his career. The current solidarity of the Haunted Graffiti engine, Elbrecht geared in, seems to have permitted Pink to occupy the most whimsical, fruitful corners of his twisted mind. Said fruit puréed within: Tokyo jubilation (“Plastic Raincoats in the Pig Parade”), torrid murder opera (“Lipstick”), sadomasochism (“Not Enough Violence”), warped jingle (“Jell-O”), and technological elegy (“Picture Me Gone”), among oddball flavors innumerable. Soak ’em in.