Ariel Pink is one sleazy unicorn. “I’m a sexual athlete,” the Los Angeles bedroom-pop trickster boasts on his latest bong-swirl odyssey. Pink’s music manages to be at once glossy and murky, absurd and natural – pinging with ADD inventiveness from demented glam rock to lone-wolf disco to cartoon punk to zonked-out Sixties psych pop. Through it all, there’s an undercurrent of the creepy vibe that has made Pink a bit of a villain in indie-rock circles. Pom Pom’s knockout track is “Put Your Number in My Phone,” a buttery slice of California guitar poetry and playa-listic arrogance that perfectly sums up the Pink magic: The man might skeeve you out a little, but the tune is pretty irresistible.