"Jackson Scott has developed out of a weird audacity; bending spoons with apocalyptic melodies, sugared with solipsistic textures. How did the world conceive this young cosmonaut?" Those aren't my words - I'd have to have been on some strong stuff to have written such guff and let's face it, those days are behind me. But I can kind of see Fat Possum's point of view when it comes to their young signing Jackson Scott.

The 20-year-old North Carolinian - keeping up the strong musical lineage of that state - makes music that's broadly psychedelic in nature and variously recalls Deerhunter, Neutral Milk Hotel and a number of the Elephant 6 bands (very much like another, even younger, precocious kid, our own Kiran Leonard), along with one of psych's most damaged artists, Syd Barratt. Scott has recorded onto cassette from the moment he began to make music, and with debut album Melbourne nothing has changed. If you're looking for the most badly-recorded album of 2013, then your search is over.

Joking aside, it's a method of recording that - for the moment - suits the songs that Scott is writing and recording. Melbourne is an album of sketches, mostly going between good and brilliant in quality, but with a tendency towards the extremely frustrating in the throwaway nature of some of the music here. Having mentioned the psychedelic influence, it's actually the sound of Built to Spill's wandering guitar lines that dominates the first track we heard from young Jackson, 'That Awful Sound'. Wayward solos mix with a sparse drum track and a casual vocal to create a hazy and lazy sound of the summer.

His next offering, 'Sandy' (a tribute to the children killed at Sandy Hook) sounded ripped from a Branford Cox solo record, all gentle jangling and what turns out to be a recurring penchant for pitch-bent vocals, frustratingly petering out at not much over a minute before it really gets going. The best of what he's released so far dropped just last week in the form of the epic summer jam 'Together Forever'; featuring unhinged bluesy guitar work worthy of Doug Martsch, this one benefits from getting time to evolve over three-and-a-half minutes as Scott mumbles and falsettos his way from under the noise, like he's trying to make his way out of a drug-induced torpor. It's stunning, and the prime example of what this kid is capable of.

The frustration comes with some of the shorter, sketchier songs; while the shivering tremolo guitar of opening instrumental 'Only Eternal' is atmospheric and lovely, and revisited with success in the ambient passage of sister song 'Wish Upon', the agitated and directionless 'Tomorrow' and the mildly clichéd backward guitar of 'Never Ever' really don't work, and in all honesty sound half-finished. Yet these are relatively minor quibbles when we've got the brilliantly downbeat and detuned 'Evie', the Jonathan Richman-esque 'Any Way' which vibes on ridiculously pitch-shifted vocals on top of a catchy-as-hell acoustic strum, and the blissed-out beach harmonies - perfect for this weather - of 'In The Sun'. The album might end on a dark note with the slow 'Sweet Nothings', but it still leaves you with a sense of contentedness, a track that's maybe not for the sunshine but more for the wee small hours as you drift off to sleep.

Let's be honest, for someone who's only 20, Melbourne is often excellent, always heady stuff. If this is what Jackson Scott is producing while recording to cassette in his bedroom, just imagine what he might be capable of a few more years down the line.