Verses From The Aethersphere: Jon Forshee’s Sonic Headtrip (2019)
Alright, let’s cut the crap. Jon Forshee’s Verses From The Aethersphere is not your average chill-out record you throw on while folding laundry or pretending to meditate. Nope. This thing hits like a freight train of sound that doesn’t care if you’re ready for it. Released in 2019 under Open Space, this experimental beast blends electronic bleeps, classical swells, folk vibes, and even some world music weirdness into a chaotic yet strangely cohesive package. It’s like someone threw a rave, a symphony, and a barn dance into a blender and hit “puree.” And guess what? I kinda loved it.
Let’s start with “OPUS.” Holy hell, this track grabs you by the throat from the first beat. The synths pulse like they're alive, writhing around in your brain until you can’t tell if you’re hearing music or having some kind of auditory hallucination. There’s something almost tribal about it—like it’s summoning spirits or ancient gods or whatever—but then BAM! A string section crashes in outta nowhere, all dramatic and shit, and suddenly you’re sitting in a concert hall instead of a sweaty club. That contrast sticks with me. You don’t expect those two worlds to collide so hard, but Forshee makes it work.
Then there’s “Pedo Mellon a Minno.” Yeah, I know, the title sounds like an incantation from some fantasy novel—and honestly, that’s fitting. This one feels like walking through a dream where every step takes you deeper into some mystical forest. The melody builds slow at first, teasing you with these soft, haunting notes that feel like whispers in the dark. But just when you think it’s gonna stay mellow, it explodes into this wild cacophony of layered voices and instruments that make zero logical sense but somehow still sound incredible. Like, how does he do that?! By the end, my heart was racing like I’d just run a marathon. Wild stuff.
The rest of the album isn’t exactly filler, but man, those two tracks are the ones that burrowed into my skull and refused to leave. Sure, “Desiderata” has its moments, and “Sextet” tries real hard to impress with its jazzy undertones, but nothing else hits as hard or stays stuck in your head like “OPUS” and “Pedo Mellon a Minno.”
So yeah, Jon Forshee didn’t play it safe here. He went full mad scientist mode, mixing genres and styles like he was inventing a new language. Is it perfect? Hell no. Sometimes it’s messy as fuck, and you might need a drink after listening to it. But damn if it isn’t memorable. Experimental albums like this remind us that music doesn’t always have to fit neatly into boxes labeled “pop,” “rock,” or “classical.” Sometimes it’s supposed to break the box, light it on fire, and stomp on the ashes.
Final thought: If aliens ever invade Earth and demand we prove our artistic worth, I’m playing them Verses From The Aethersphere. Either they’ll beam me aboard their ship as their new overlord, or they’ll vaporize me instantly. Either way, win-win.
