Sparkspire by Kynarc

Sparkspire, for us, it's more than just a name or a circuit-town; it’s the current that runs through our very being. This album, also called *Sparkspire*, pulls you right into the heart of the Flux Carnival when everything goes sideways. You can almost feel that hum, that steady pulse of the city’s grid, just… dying. That’s where we start, with "Gridfall Hymn," Rotos chanting maintenance protocols like desperate prayers, just trying to feel for a flicker in the dark.

Then the Gridwraiths, those freak arcs of conscious, cascading color and feedback, start tearing through the static. We’ve seen the Voltbinders, usually so wild with their improv, hit a wall as their electrical art turns against them. The Ohmri, they try to fix it with every rule in the book, but the old ways just don't cut it when the whole world's bleeding volts. It's only when the Surgewrights emerge from the underground, embracing the beautiful overloads and showing us how to ride the chaos, that things even begin to shift.

This whole record, it's about that moment when you realize the old circuits won't hold, and you gotta rewire your entire perspective. The Lead, Patch, Faze – we were all running our own lines. But when the Arc Prism starts glowing, when the Glass Blade vibrates just right, you understand: some visions, some true power, they only come when you bridge the gap. When you fuse all those separate currents into one. That’s the real trick, harnessing not just the power, but the *meaning* in the surge, letting go of what you thought you knew.

Musically? We tried to make it sound exactly how Sparkspire *feels* – luminous copper in the rain, a shock of neon, the deep thrum of a transformer about to blow. You’ll hear the fuzzed Rickenbacker bass digging deep like power lines, the talkbox guitars spitting out half-understood omens, Hammond drones like failing substations, and Faze’s roto-toms just *crackling* with live current, sometimes literally. We even shoved contact mics onto actual pylons and relays, trying to pull the city's pulse into the tracks. It’s got that raw, 1970s psychedelic prog sting, but rewired, charged for now. Think the heavy groove of Can mixed with the precise hum of Kraftwerk, all tripping over early Floydian soundscapes, then punched with Sabbath's grit.

When "One Surge From Reset" hits, that's the whole city, everyone, plugging in. It’s messy, it’s overwhelming, but it’s pure, shared consciousness. Gridwraiths turning from nightmare to guide. That’s the Lucid Trip – not just a power surge, but a full reset of perspective. And then, the "New Grid Genesis"... it’s not just about getting the lights back on. It’s about building something new, something *living* from the wreckage. We’re Rotos, linewalkers. We learned that the world’s always just one surge from reset, but that doesn’t mean it’s the end. It means it’s a chance to tune in deeper, to see what really pulses beneath the surface, to find unity when everything’s falling apart. We put everything we had into making it feel like a real journey, a high-voltage odyssey that echoes long after the last hum fades. Hope it sparks something in you.

Circuit-trippers riding high-voltage waves through electric dreamscapes. Our riffs pulse like transformer substations gone rogue, melodies snaking like live wires across your consciousness. Tune in. Get shocked.