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Blonde and brunette. Dog and cat.
Lemon and onion. Friend and foam.
The change has been made! You can
scratch your seven-year itch freely
now: Ty Segall and White Fence
are become one again, regrooving
what we once called Hair into what
is now Joy.
Hair grew out of a simpler time, man! If, as the dyphrenic duo indeed affirm on Joy,
rock in 2018 is dead, don't come around here looking for no burial. Instead, find Joy
caught up in the commencement of on-beyond rock; music made with the old tools,
but emitted from a fresh new, single-celled organism. This time, the old "one and one
make one" line does not apply. Hair had the quality of emulsion-drops of Segall
suspended in Fence; a compound of White dispersed over sheets of Ty. With Joy,
Tim and Ty arrive without travelling from the same place, occupy one single headspace,

finishing the other's phrases, pulling licks from each other's places. Singing and think-
ing and laughing as one. Calling themselves from inside the house. C-c-c-creepy!

Both these fellows have been known to trifle with tropic pasts and reactivate vintage
visions within their new music. Not now. Now is the only time this time-Joy is their own
sound of today, a shared individuality, prisming all possible stances into an unseamly
metastasis that FLOWS for 15 ebbcentric tracks. Plus, since it ends at the beginning,
it never has to stop. LOOP that shit!