I first caught wind of the L.A. artist known as JIM at three in the morning whilst punching blindly at Instagram's Explore page in an insomniac delirium, as one does. The clip I stumbled upon was of a dude dressed all in black on the stage at Hyperion Tavern, against grainy black & white projections of 1980s Los Angeles, singing with his eyes tightly shut, anachronistic synth lines pumping from the laptop in front of him. His Soundcloud contained a handful of rough-hewn tracks, each characterized by JIM's droning vocals and bizarre lyrics, the best of which might be on "I Know You Were At The Cha Cha, Liar (G.U.I.L.T.Y.)." It's a banal tale of betrayal that immortalizes the bullshit evasive tactics of our generation: At the Cha Cha last night /Saw you with him taking shots in the red light /Falling down /Knocking your face on the bar /Breaking the phone that I just bought you. Guilty.