Henry Kaye, or, “Freelancer” makes pop to blare in your car while you drive off a cliff. He’s Raymond dressed up like Jobu Tupaki. He’s a pop outsider artist. He’s the artist who would make music even if he was forever hermetically sealed in a dumpster at the bottom of the ocean. He’s who you’d want to party with if you had 24 hours until Armageddon. He would give up a lifetime of contentment for 10 minutes of ecstasy. He wants to dance, not despite the world ending, but because of it.