Pine Barons - TV MOVIE
- 1SUM____ONE
- 2FRANTIC FRANCIS
- 3CRIME CINEMA
- 4BLUE DOLPHIN
- 5GRIMY RIBBON
- 6ETHERLIGHT
- 7ELECTRIC FINGERTIPS
- 8HERMIT CRAB
- 9DAISY
- 10LILO
- 11F.A.C.
- 12TV MOVIE
GS043
•
Open edition
Pine Barons, the experimental rock trio led by songwriter/producer KC Abrams, has always thrived in transformation. From the otherworldly textures of their debut The Acchin Book (2017), to the shadowy, pandemic-born Mirage on the Meadow (2020), to the cult-acclaimed tribute project I LOVE FISH (2022), each record has marked a leap into a new realm without losing the singular heartbeat at the project’s core.
Their fourth album, TV MOVIE, is both their most playful and most haunting work to date. Where Mirage lingered in cold air and existential dread, TV MOVIE opens the blinds, songs that feel light on their feet yet shimmer with deeper specters beneath. Abrams’ production keeps the vocals close and intimate, while instruments float in a strange vacuum: sparkly, polished, and breathing with space. It’s a kaleidoscopic journey of love, mortality, and liminal worlds, conjuring images of talking with ghosts, wrestling with loss, and finding fragile joy in the in-between.
The album’s centerpiece tracks embody this balance: “F.AC.” or “Floating Angel Chimera” emerges from a dreamlike encounter with a departed family member, hovering between grief and transcendence. “F.A.C.” stitches together warped cassette samples with lush, organic arrangements, collapsing past and present into one hallucinatory whole. Even the buoyant “LILO,” one of Abrams’ shortest and happiest songs, carries with it an undertow of longing.
Influenced by the fearless eclecticism of Japan’s Fishmans and by years of Abrams’ own fascination with liminal dreamscapes, TV MOVIE resists easy definition. At once nostalgic and unfamiliar, its sound flickers like an old VHS tape rewound and replayed - warm, distorted, alive. It’s music that doesn’t take itself too seriously on the surface, yet lingers with the weight of unspoken conversations and half-remembered visions.
With TV MOVIE, Pine Barons invite us inside that flickering world - fragile and fearless, grounded and supernatural, a place where memory, melody, and imagination blur into one strange, beautiful reel.
Their fourth album, TV MOVIE, is both their most playful and most haunting work to date. Where Mirage lingered in cold air and existential dread, TV MOVIE opens the blinds, songs that feel light on their feet yet shimmer with deeper specters beneath. Abrams’ production keeps the vocals close and intimate, while instruments float in a strange vacuum: sparkly, polished, and breathing with space. It’s a kaleidoscopic journey of love, mortality, and liminal worlds, conjuring images of talking with ghosts, wrestling with loss, and finding fragile joy in the in-between.
The album’s centerpiece tracks embody this balance: “F.AC.” or “Floating Angel Chimera” emerges from a dreamlike encounter with a departed family member, hovering between grief and transcendence. “F.A.C.” stitches together warped cassette samples with lush, organic arrangements, collapsing past and present into one hallucinatory whole. Even the buoyant “LILO,” one of Abrams’ shortest and happiest songs, carries with it an undertow of longing.
Influenced by the fearless eclecticism of Japan’s Fishmans and by years of Abrams’ own fascination with liminal dreamscapes, TV MOVIE resists easy definition. At once nostalgic and unfamiliar, its sound flickers like an old VHS tape rewound and replayed - warm, distorted, alive. It’s music that doesn’t take itself too seriously on the surface, yet lingers with the weight of unspoken conversations and half-remembered visions.
With TV MOVIE, Pine Barons invite us inside that flickering world - fragile and fearless, grounded and supernatural, a place where memory, melody, and imagination blur into one strange, beautiful reel.
