If this were, oh, 1974, “Trio” would be a thirty track, triple LP, with in addition to the gate folded cover, a full width booklet covering all the liner notes, production tales and lots and lots of art and photos. If it were up to me, I would design it and go into my TARDIS to place it in the bins of many a grimy, dingy, independent record store for others to discover and hopefully follow Spartan Jet-Plex around the world like so many did in those decades of seven, eight and nine.

Photo of Grim of Spartan Jet-Plex.

The digital age has enshrined the single, shortened even the length of songs to attention spans, removed all the tough bran from the sweet kernel of emotional fire but, Grim and Spartan Jet-Plex seem to stand against that wind and demand that you need to savor all moments, even if those moments are steeped in that woolen wisdom of sadness.

Uncomplicated mixes and sparse but, poignant and effective use of effects across all three album missives that lends to the listener’s ear a whisper of empathy as one would use upon a wounded friend or aching lover across an expanse of pillow, sheet and afghan.

Cross The Line” cover art.

“Cross The Line” is what you do when you are a child of Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez, a scion of Carol King and Judee Sill. I hear your grief and wish I was not so familiar with those waters of the ocean of indigo black in which you swim. ‘The End’ from those Doors Of Perception seem totally self indulgent compared to the raw honesty of Spartan Jet-Plex’s song. An atoll of respite is a beach I hope all shall reach.

If obsession and possession are the prison then, ‘Love Jail’ is the woeful, chilled cell that weeps for clemency, parole or covert escape. Sometimes, the only way out is through. And we always leave a needed piece of our heart, or a tatter of our soul, behind when we are free.

‘The Choke’ comes as close to the description of that catch in your breath, the lump that gags your swallow, the shallow of every breath, that you feel when you must say a final goodbye, or in remembrance.

My Time” cover art.

Flowing into “My Time”, ‘Liable’ shoe-gazes upon a Joy Division’s step with a drum machine, a deconstructed pop vocal hook and just enough exhausted insistence of blame that you wish nothing but justice and relief.

‘Yard’ reminisces upon childhood boundaries filled with magick, delights and sunshine through that memorial home lattice of stained glass. ‘Alone’ is a lament about after the storm of loss passes into a far horizon, Hope hangs uncertain there will ever be a connection with any one or thing again. ‘Faint Club’ is never spoken rule, except in syncope by those who also barely feel or can stay conscious under such absences.

Touch Tone” cover art.

“Touch Tone” opens with ‘This’, a subliminal texture of frustration that has grown with the passage of time in the soul of the survivor who croons “…don’t cry. Your bruises break my fall.” A turn of phrase that hits an absolute “this”.

‘The Best’ has a sonic equal in a needful, indigenous dance for rain but, any unwanted waltz with pain, agonizing steps without a partner are all that is available for comfort.

Focus of ‘Aware Of The Flaws’ admits that relief and inevitability may have their own plans that lead to another ruinous result but, resolve is the only course and seems like no choice at all.

75% of digital proceeds on Bandcamp go to Spartan Jet-Plex and the other 25% supports Grimalkin’s future releases. “Trio” is available now online. If you have any experience with loss or grief, “Trio” is your soundtrack. If you have yet to delve into such oceans, this release will be your tender guide and mercy when those waves roil over your shores to sweep you out to sea in undertow.

By Sihn Starr Cartia

Artist. Musician. Writer. Anarcho. Punk. Goth. Gaymer. Streamer. Greetings.

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