all instruments and field recordings were played and
collected by j.g.sparkes in the eu in early mmxvii. photos by j.g.sparkes. mastered by sean mccann at recital. the first song contains a sample of a song by jimmy scott. i can't remember which. best listened to on big headphones.

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Excerpt of review on Tabs Out (www.tabsout.com)

"About thirty seconds into “The Infinity Suite I-XII,” I realized that old Thanos and his stones weren’t going to show up at all, and I stormed out of my listening closet with barely a shred of patience or dignity behind my beet-red visage. After I calmed myself with a gallon of milk (kids, drink as much milk as fast as you can always!), I popped my headphones back on, newly open to the actual experiences J.G. Sparkes had in store for me. And what experiences they were! I can’t imagine a more appropriate approximation of the infinite than this tape, as the Stockholm-based sound artist crafts twelve passages to the stages of life and beyond using only his imagination, some instruments, and samples. Just like our forefathers drew up the blueprints in holy scrolls, Sparkes attempts to make sense of life on this planet and its current manifestation in all its imperfect glory (and, uh, all the other not-glory, in fact really horrible, stuff) through textural ambient meditations. He covers birth, self-realization, melancholy, and the end, even utilizing a growling animal on “XI” before ending on the appropriately titled “XII (tomb planet),” one of two tracks to have a title beyond the roman numeral. (The other is “IV [are you happy?],” and the answer, judging from the defeated sigh of the questioner following each sampled query, is no.)

Review on radio-on-berlin.com:-

Christmas time in my native town, streets are dark and wet.
Shopkeepers took over long ago. Real estate developers helped them.
Only pedestrians walk their streets. I feel odd on my bicycle.
Shops sell things that I don’t need.
Some shops died and never got replaced.

No doomsday feelings are admitted.
Megaphones appeared in trees and street lamps.
They transmit songs in both directions.
There is nothing special about those songs;
FM radio transmits them all the time,
young people who try to look like models or pop stars
sing them in talent shows on TV.

I imagine a different type of melody,
like the one on this tape.
Slow evolving ambient that works like a virus, or a gas.
People will slow down, but keep moving.
They will walk so slow that you hardly notice that they move at all.
The street becomes liquid. The shops become liquid.
Everything around the pedestrians blurs,
like a reflection blurs in rippling water.
My native town becomes one big raindrop.
It falls.

The composer of the infinite suite resides in Stockholm,
capital of the country of dark detective series.
Everything is dark in Sweden.

The composer lies on his bed.
It is good to feel like you’re dying,
because that is where bliss hides.