serotinous, the works of Jed Fisher

Quinn McClurg

Jed Fisher lives an unparalleled life; most of their time is spent vaccinating trees in the middle of nowhere, sharing cigarettes with geese, or playing their banjo in abandoned lots. If you meet them (I am convinced more people have than haven’t), Jed will tell you two things: first, “the trees talk to each other,” and second, under the name serotinous,” Jed doesn’t make music, they make “noises.” 

This hesitation to call their noises “music” defined their earliest works. Their first album “Noises” consists of simple electric guitar riffs (“little things”), banjo recordings seemingly recorded through a tin can (“banjo”), and beginnings of more complicated digital production (“everythings happening i am scared”). 

Because “Noises” is compiled chronologically, one listen demonstrates Jed’s growth into themselves as an artist; their music is as earnest as they are themselves. The tones and themes dominating most of Jed’s early music are those of latent crisis and disorientation—like wandering through an abandoned factory floor, looking for a combination of sounds or tools fitting enough to break oneself out. 

In serotinous’ recent live sets, that breakout sound is a looped crow’s call. “crows” is an unexpected, yet energetic breakthrough in Jed’s composition, perhaps their most confident foray into the genre of DnB yet. Their latest unreleased single “cigarette hexagon” is evidence of this trajectory, racing toward hyperpop and breakcore, with heavy, yet underlying industrial influence, complete with three grinding bass drops.

As the years roll on, I have no idea where Jed will take their music or where their music will take them; however, I know I will be able to find them in all the same places I have before, leaning and grinning, holding a banjo in one hand and a cigarette in the other.