Life is a Rorschach, life is a Rashomon. Fuck your facts. Throw em out with yesterday s webpages. Lives lie beyond the equations of currency, border lines and government and truth is just a drop in the beholder s eye. Ty Segall has made whole records that wrestle with realities fighting against some, pulling mightily to bring others into being. Of late, he s thrown up his hands and donned clown shoes, dancing merrily in the dual role of oppressed/oppressor! His hands aren t any more or less dirty than anyone else s but amidst the thunder and the chaos of the ongoing storm, he s looking for the eye within. The new self-titled record the next record after Emotional Mugger, Manipulator, Sleeper, Twins, Goodbye Bread, Melted, Lemons, and the first self-titled album that started it up in the nowdistant year of 2008 is a clean flow, a wash of transparency falling into a world that needs to see a few things through clearly, to their logical end. It s got some of the most lobe-blasting neckwork since the Ty Segall Band s Slaughterhouse (from way back in the long, hot summer of 2012), but it also features a steep flight of fluent acoustic settings, as Ty s new songs range around in their search for freedom without exorcism, flying the dark colors high up the pole in an act of simple self-reclamation. All he wants is some truth! The construction and destruction of his chosen realities has, until now, been a luxury Ty has rightfully reserved for himself, striping overdubs together to form the sound but for this new album, he entered a studio backed by a full band Emmett Kelly, Mikal Cronin, Charles Moothart and Ben Boye to get a read on this so-called clarity. This leads to a new departure in group sound, as well as some of the most visceral and penetrating vocal passages yet heard from Ty Segall. Freedom/Warm Hands puts the sweet back into suite; Orange Color Queen is a supreme moment of tenderness; Talkin , a roots-infused truth-attack. Papers, looks behind the doors of Ty s process; Break A Guitar is a brutal fun-fest pitched to the back of the house. Ty Segall keeps you guessing, bracing your skin with a welcome astringency, seeking to stem the bleeding with chunks and splashes of guitar, tight beats, audio-verité toilet smashes, a Wurlitzer electric piano in a jam, blazing harmonies, and LOTS of songs to sing. There s no concept beyond that; finding the right places to be is a momentary thing. Ty Segall is the sum of his songs and about getting the free. The free to be!