(Self-released, digital) Experimental electro-pop artist fiona Lou Armour has a habit of making distorted, exaggerated hyper-pop songs. Between the 15 tracks on the Burlington artist's latest album, fiona compilation, and the 75-plus to their name on SoundCloud, it's apparent that Armour revels in the many anomalies of their aesthetic. The new album is high concept without being highbrow, and with nobody behind the mixing board to say no to the call of the wild, the result is a balls-to-the-wall set of transgressive tracks. It's the avant-garde sound of a virtual reality, a kind of frenzied video-game pop so extreme it verges into the realm of science fiction. Listening to Armour sparks the image of an anthropomorphic avatar journeying into a pixelated universe. I can't help but imagine a cyclops treading through cities on fire, carrying nothing but a DAW and their fixed point of view, as if they were a part of a glitchcore version of "The Masked Singer." Four songs into fiona compilation, "There" suggests Armour's ruminative side. It's the album's only even-tempered slow jam — that is, until the beat cuts out and glitchy voices shout "FIONA" with slapdash authority. Bars of dog barks get peppered over mumble-rapped hooks and bombard the album's most referential aspect: repetitive, arpeggiated digital beeps and boops derivative of electro-pop hits from the early aughts. Later, in the opening of the track "Ran Freestyle," the Postal Service immediately come to mind. The songs of fiona compilation operate at maximum capacity while remaining bite-size — about 90 seconds long on average. Each tramples into the next without much ado, especially considering the bombastic nature of the chopped-up, ever-changing samples and anarchistic production. The result isn't so much a collection of songs in the classic sense but imaginative, sensory-induced interstitials that offer disfigured glimpses into Armour's personal life. Unfortunately, vocals are auto-tuned to such excess that it's more or less impossible to decipher Armour's lyrics. For all the eccentricities found in fiona compilation, this was my biggest gripe: Why put up an effectual wall between you and the listener? Still, there's something innately confessional about fiona compilation. Throughout the album, Armour's penchant for obfuscating is plain as day. But in the opening of the track "_" — the symbol for underscore — they opt for a clear spoken-word admission: "Every day / it feels like I'm waking up / getting ready for battle." Amid…