Stevhen Peters adds texture to his synth-pop. It’s his own brew of electronic and hymnal, hovering somewhere in the “experimental” end of the spectrum for it’s uncanny delivery. His visual counterpart would likely fit in the taxonomy of “abstract” for his spattering of beats that know no conventional trajectory--a Pollock of off-beaten indie. From his upcoming EP, Playoff, (which is stamped with the Lobby Art Records' letterhead) Peters presents the track Team 7-Eleven, which evokes references to fluorescent-lit convenience stores or the underdog cyclist team of the 80's depending on your pop culture fluency. The song layers staccato rhythms and stalled, backing vocals beneath Peters' elongating, featherweight lead vocals. It opens with the repetition of a skipping track, but one firmly rooted in the digital era, rather than a nod to a wavering needle on a rotating record. You pick up bits and pieces of the lyrics that hum beneath the surface, a kind of male Siri-stutter that churns out either words or seemingly inaudible sounds that feel just on the cusp of our recognition. "Trying to, trying to...candy, candy...scripture, scripture..." we can parse out from Peters' unhurried stammer, turning a pseudo-glitch into an artistic style. Throughout the song there are moments of (relative) cohesion, beats which linger a little longer--a hiatus that feels contemplative paired with Peters high cadence. "I meant to say goodbye..." he sings gently, as the flurry of activity that is his melody suddenly clicks--moving pieces that in tandem meld together like the gears in a clock, barreling onward.