More than a simple love-or-hate situation, Gonjasufi’s gruff, smoky voice doesn’t even register on the same planet as the rest of us. It hovers in the ether instead, an alien presence that’s welcoming and wise in ways that can’t be fully understood without succumbing to his self-made universe. Even that can be a tad disorienting, as the San Diego native sings, speaks and scowls his way across frayed electronic loops (“Holidays”) and eerie snippets of soul (“Change”), funk (“Candylane”), and Route 66-ready psychedelic rock (“DedNd,” “SuzieQ”). It's a transformative experience, really, delivering the unmistakable feeling that you’re witnessing a genuine eccentric/mad genius freestyle over a roughly spun radio dial. Well, a roughly spun radio dial from the ‘60s or ‘70s, as hammered home in the album’s undisputed standout: “Sheep,” which pairs a couple cascading chords with a vintage children’s chorus, Middle Eastern melodies, and brassy horn breaks. Like the rest of Gonjasufi's debut, it's a crate-digger's fever dream and a sign that something truly haunting is happening here.