My review at Blurt begins...
Jackson Scott, a 20-something home recorder from Ashville, NC, slips radiant bits of pop melody into a slushy mix of static, cymbal clash and jangle. Pretty lines drift in and out of focus, subsumed in an inchoate rainbow hash of unstrung bedroom pop. You live, during this short but intriguing album, for the moments when a song rises up out of the mess and fuzz, the melody taking shape like a cloud takes shape if you look at it long enough. And then, just when you’ve got it (“It’s a frog!” “it’s an angel!” “it’s the guitar lick from the Pixies’ ‘Where Is My Mind?’”), the wind shifts and the outlines dissolve. Melbourne is easy to listen to, but hard to make sense of.
A not-quite-a-video for "Together Forever."
We are going to try to see the Evens at the Flywheel tonight, though there's no way to buy tickets ahead and I'm worried about getting shut out.