W-X

Announcing W-X, a new double LP by Tim Presley

“I look across the table at the man 

cuban coffee in hand, cigarette stuck to lip

glasses nearly opaque grey blue 

you can see his sleepy eyes but only just barely 

and i think “this man has been up all night in the song-lab writing while the masses sleep”

Like Poe, eyes screwed up from working by candle light 

Nicely high but not for pleasure…for the boundless job 

Not that these songs are to be listened to strictly at night while lit up, but it seems they lean that way

Blown and bent like trees on a white noise swept plain 

Surreal like a wet city street after hours

Winding like a nocturnal drive through the backstreets

End upon beginning like a borderless landmass

Each song or structure tail bleeding onto the fingertips of the next 

Barely holding onto the fur of cohesion 

I think of this record as kind of a “Tim Presley reads his book on tape”

The story of life in Los Angeles flowing like the low moisture river that it is 

The start is uphill, long and slow, and you ponder when you will be spat out onto the straight away 

By the time “Clean It Glen” kicks in, your hands are sweating 

and then you are there and it is glassy and wonderfully repetitive, repetitive, repetitive 

Lights are flashing 

Cars are passing 

There is synthesized wild life here 

Blips that are winged 

Crackles that are slithering through the digital grass

Echo ripples across a chrome topped body of water 

You catch a glimpse of yourself in a store-that-sells-something window 

Beats are the staccato lines on the road being eaten by the undercarriage of the vehicle that whips Through this world

Guitars are trash and debris

Acid

A headphone record at its primal best 

Far out and geographically odd 

Every time i play this someone asks, “what the hell is this?”

I say W-X

Dig in 

Best to listen to it in its entirety 

A vast 20 course experience served on twin platters 

A carnival 

A far cry from White Fence and yet still the scent lingers on the fingers 

He told me I would hate this repeatedly and I replied that it is my favorite masterpiece of his (of which there are many)

This record looks through to the matrix of Tim’s songsmith genius, don’t forget to blink

For fans of early Soft Machine, The Fall, The Tronics , general clutter, disarray and Faust” 

- John Dwyer