Jordyn’s philosophy of musical composition as it applies to The Chemical Spray: burn the motherfucker down but leave the charred skeleton, the broken foundation, the smouldering cinders of what used to stand, the wall that used to block the wind, to hold the ceiling, and provided the pale green latex backdrop for the store bought art reproductions that adorned them. Vanquish it all. Return it to memory, let it be somebody else’s nostalgia, while we tie corrosive colored strands of sound to the remains like explosive cords and run little poison rivulets through the dirt in tiny trenches that we’ll make with our fingers so that we can watch it eat through the stone and turn the puddles in the basement to shimmering turquoise mirrors of mutant reflection. So it’s safe to say that Jordyn wasn’t down with the suggestion made by a local indie record label rep that we come to a studio and lay down some tracks for free but we had to allow his engineer and production guy to manage the recording. It was never a straight no from Jordyn. That was my job. | image @guyhepner