David Lynch, ‘Crazy Clown Time’
Avant-noir filmmaker David Lynch calls his debut solo album “modern blues,” but postmodern is more like it: Warm synths and woozy electric guitars transmit warped waves of sound over beats that stalk, stagger, throb, and creep. Lynch’s wobbly croak of a voice is frequently manipulated to sound robotic or distant, or as if his mouth is stuffed with dinner rolls. Karen O coos and yelps through propulsive opener “Pinky’s Dream,” but Lynch handles most everything else here — vocals, guitar, writing, production — creating soundscapes that are dark, unsettling, and often confusing. Which is to say, quite a bit like his films.