TUNES // Spartan Jet-Plex – Material

Post by Misha

This song, specifically the way voices come from everywhere cloaked in unpredictable shininesses or buried in inscrutable grit, makes me think about a thing that sometimes happens when I’m trying to fall asleep. What it is is when I’m concentrating especially hard on the silence and darkness, when I really pare the night down to its patience and my stillness, there’s a part of me that sort of forgets that I have a body.

What I mean is, if I haven’t seen or felt the actual physical edges of my body in a while then those edges start to go a little fuzzy. I’ll be laying there and suddenly notice that my tongue feels too big for my mouth. Has it always felt that way? I’ll have the unshakable sensation of being huge. I’ll feel as though breath is meaningless because nothing exists to contain it. Or else I’ll feel small enough to live alongside my own atoms. I’ll forget which direction my head is pointed in relation to the bedroom door. It’s not entirely unpleasant, but sometimes the feeling of not-being becomes so overwhelming that I have to open my eyes to snap everything back into existence. Does this happen to everyone?

Anyway, there’s a piece of that experience in here somewhere. It’s the way that the song’s elements are scattered in space, I think, with the fuzzed out guitar providing a deep and resonant openness in which to lose any sense of direction.

Buy Resurrected here. All proceeds go to funding the future releases of Grimalkin Records, which, besides representing a huge and diverse range of artists and genres, also happens to be lovingly run by Spartan Jet-Plex’s own Nancy Kells.