Soliloquy is meant to be a complete work, one of those you're not supposed to listen to in bits and pieces, but rather experience from start to finish. This is ReetoxA's second album, put together as a double project with a European orchestra. It came from an unusual goal: to capture a whole lifetime of emotions, all in one place.
Soliloquy is meant to be a complete work, one of those you're not supposed to listen to in bits and pieces, but rather experience from start to finish. This is ReetoxA's second album, put together as a double project with a European orchestra. It came from an unusual goal: to capture a whole lifetime of emotions, all in one place.
Behind this big project is Jason McKee, who spent decades writing without rushing, gathering ideas, experiences, and different ways of thinking about music. What was supposed to be his first album took a different turn during a global pause. Instead of just finishing what he had, he chose to look back and redo everything from scratch. Not to correct it, but to reinvent it.
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Reetoxa
Reetoxa
The result is a work that feels deeply personal, but without being too literal. Each piece seems to capture a different state of mind: loss, euphoria, doubt, clarity. The orchestra isn't just there for decoration; it extends that emotional intensity, making what's already at the core of the songs even bigger.
Meeting producer Simon Moro was a turning point. After years of searching, that partnership finally allowed him to shape a project that had been dormant for far too long. It's not just a late debut, but a statement built with the kind of perspective only years can bring.
Soliloquy isn't trying to be something you get right away. It demands attention, time, and a willingness to engage. It's an album that asks you to slow down, to listen carefully, to dive in without distractions. More than just promising an experience, it insists on one with a clear belief: some works aren't made to accompany you, but to change you.
The result is a work that feels deeply personal, but without being too literal. Each piece seems to capture a different state of mind: loss, euphoria, doubt, clarity. The orchestra isn't just there for decoration; it extends that emotional intensity, making what's already at the core of the songs even bigger.
Meeting producer Simon Moro was a turning point. After years of searching, that partnership finally allowed him to shape a project that had been dormant for far too long. It's not just a late debut, but a statement built with the kind of perspective only years can bring.
Soliloquy isn't trying to be something you get right away. It demands attention, time, and a willingness to engage. It's an album that asks you to slow down, to listen carefully, to dive in without distractions. More than just promising an experience, it insists on one with a clear belief: some works aren't made to accompany you, but to change you.