Following the stripped-down strategies of punk, the next (il)logical move was to repudiate the accomplished sound of a proper recording studio — thus, the lo-fi movement was born. Eventually, lo-fi became just another style-bound dead end — someone needed to use it as a means to an end rather than an end in itself. Enter Ariel Pink (formerly Rosenberg), a one-organism band and choir channeling his muse through whatever inexpensive analogue equipment he can scare up. Worn Copy is a pop collage imparted in such an off-kilter/out-of-sync manner that it can sound like a radio receiver set directly between two stations, with the crisscrossing resonances oddly harmonizing. Layered, surreally distorted voices are borne on alluring melodies and pulsating rhythms (recalling Throbbing Gristle and early Human League), including tunes that mutate into avant-jazz bliss-out (“Life in LA”) or a teenage Can in hypno-mode (“Foilly Foibles”/”GOLD”). Don’t miss Copy — it’ll drive you crazy.
Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti
Worn Copy








