Starting off like a curious mixture of Beck, Syd Barrett and Holger Hiller before getting considerably weirder as each track progresses, barely-out-of-his-teens Philip Guichard lays zonked-out vocals over twitchy, glitchy, chopped-up bedroom soundtracks to produce a noise both beguiling and annoying. Think "Lady Godiva's Operation" remixed by the Neptunes on a budget.

But it's not all as good as that sounds. If this was on vinyl I'd play the first side all the time and only flip it over when I wanted to make the neighbors cry. After the first few crunchy gems, the louche, sometimes even catchy tunes disappear beneath a sludge of bleeps and unfathomable noise with increasing rapidity. Promisingly goofy vocals, wayward slide guitars and triphop beats lull you for mere seconds before morphing into alien grunts, overloaded junkyard clatterings and a soup of speaker-warping noise. It's said Phiiliip wrote and recorded a thousand songs between the ages of 14 and 18 and at times it sounds like he's piled them all onto this album, one on top of the other.

There are more ideas - not necessarily good ones - on each track than most bands come up with in their careers. But right now the guy needs a producer or an engineer to tell him to stretch out, keep the needles out of the red once in a while and let his creations develop organically and breathe. And for such a precocious, widely published writer, it would be nice to be able to make out a word or two of his lyrics.