ORANGE

Like a lightning strike that travels through
time'is there a word for that?'White
Fence are all of a sudden cracking in the
hear-view mirror again. Orange hits like,
visceral. White hot and cold, a zombie
Rhinestone Dwight Twilley Cowboy'but
with each Rickenbackin'''' chime, the ticking
of the clock jingle-jangles White Fence in
fresh time. Ruthless!
Guitars sound and like a shower spray

forth. Resolutely picked. Cold and sooth-
ing. Shellodic (the melody in a shell, duh!).

Swivelin'''' thru the jagged, jittery pop sounds
of the 60s-00000s, the sharped focus of
Orange''''s rock sonics gives Tim Presley
exactly what he needed the most: open
space to sing into, and songs to sing. The
rest is White Fence magik at its most dark,

as Tim's restless free-allusivation trippify-
ingly transforms the cramped confines of

heart wracked self-excoriation right before
our eyes and ears! In pop songs.
On (the mixing) board with White Fence/
on the (drum) kit with Tim is Ty Segall (also

producer of For the Recently Found Inno-
cent, the last solo White Fence album).

Engineering tactics fully hand-in-glove with
the White Fence intent, they produce a clean and uncrowded space to mount up
all the rock '''n balladry, their clean lines surrounded by an emphatic/unalterable
(minimalist) frame. These are hits! All of '''em gleaming with clean electricity, and
white (sometimes black-and-blue-eyed) soul. Hard water and power held in stylish
reserve: 'Your Eyes," 'Given Up My Heart," 'Unread Books," 'Evaporating Love"
number among the many highlights.
Tim''''s lyric sets and chord progressions, with their perspectives, time codes
and smash cuts, give up eleven fleeting glimpses from the other side of the
'Fence, each outfitted as foot-forward pop tunes for maximum rock '''n roll. On
the 'title" tune, 'I Came Close, Orange For Luck," the lyrics'''' dire implication,

blurred sumptuously by Tim''''s eerie falsetto, twist strands of dread into the sun-
shiny college rock, sharing sum space with old schoolboys, The Smiths, while

straying, an outcast of its own kind. Or the Lennon vibes of "Unread Books,"
operating through carefully twisted Presley wires. Production polarities on point!
Playing with genre throughout the album like a space-age Kinks, Tim''''s natty
wordplay splatters against the songs' rock-solid edifice, spilling an infinitum of
cracked, shaggy realities, billowing, mirrored, sharded. When it all moves, you
move, and that''''s fun, so long as you savor the deep impact of a couplet from 'I
Wanted a Rolex":
'It''''s the ocean sized desire/Impossible to satisfy."
Tim offers this post-op 'as-per' for Orange:
'Love/loss, addiction/rehabilitation, and a good long look in the mirror (by way
of a shop window reflection in San Francisco). But also the absurdity of life..... I
wanted to sing my little heart out. Sing life"
Orange is an unstill life; a bowlful of Tim''''s latest conceptions for guitar band,
grown larger through thoughts, feelings, SONGS and some keys and synth from
Alice Sandhal (+ 2 drum cameos from the ever-righteous Dylan Hadley!). A

trance-like chronology of consciousness, captured in opalescent diamond tight-
ness and ice fidelity at Ty''''s Harmonizer II studio. It''''s a KILLER. White Fence is

Orange on time this time!