One listen for this one.

I put off writing about this song for a while and I’m not sure as to why. I think fatigue played a large role, but I can’t say for certain. Anyway, I like what I wrote here, though I feel this would work better had I focused more on the atmosphere.

Bark Psychosis’ “Finger Spit” is from Hex.

I hope you enjoy.

—

Outward notes on a guitar play for a moment, seemingly taught. A faint idea of percussion fills the space between the guitar’s moments. Eventually keys come in along with hushed vocals. It is all soft, but soon the guitar starts building, growing louder and the vocals become more urgent, and they pull away. They return, joined by bass and pull away once more.

A return to when the vocals first came in, or at least a strong idea of it. Bass is here, carrying a thickness in clarity. The percussion now becomes more prominent, but it could not be there. It’s not long before that build and urgency comes back, but it is only a brief reappearance.

In the space now the percussion remains quiet and seemingly circling. Bass steps carefully and only in certain moments as the keys seemingly rise and fall, and perhaps it is all a pulse. Eventually rhythm becomes clearer and during this a few words are uttered as the bass joins the percussion in a steadiness whilst the keys and guitar roar and rage against each other, in unison.

A sudden space for gentleness, almost a breather though once more the build and urgency returns, though with a slight bit more percussion matching. It’s as though a return to memory, or statement, or perhaps it’s a reinforcing of expressiveness. In the following space the percussion steadily shuffles and bass murmurs here and there, and it’s a quiet and still air that holds.

Guitar returns once more and it stays low, and vocals remain hushed and brief. Sounds linger in the quiet and gradually fade out, though it is almost as though they were never there in the first place. They fade out and the song ends.