When you accepted my submission, the email read: “we like the idea of having club music in the webzine.” I giggled for a moment at this, partly from excitement, and partly at how infrequently I go to clubs–no more than once every few months. I’m creased looks like club music, and might have a function in a club, but I cannot be sure that it is club music.

To me, the song feels more like a casting project. I visualized sound objects like basslines and drum sequences and represented their shapes. “I’m creased” is an inelegant sum of specific representations. Like a club track, it attempts to carry the listener through a series of affects across time and to generate a space for dancing. In this capacity, it is flawed. There is just too much happening for it to do this job well. This club is not for the body or the eyes so much as it is for the body of the eyes of ears, tired from the constant left to right and back again, ready to dance and move in and out of focus.

I wrote “I’m creased” during moon snail reproduction season, as it was happening in the water near my house. Moon snails pull sand in through small openings in their foot. I think gastropod means mouth-foot. She mixes the sand with a mucus containing hundreds of eggs. The snail extends its foot outside and around her shell until it is nearly covered and secretes the mixture of sand, eggs and mucus. The mixture solidifies, casting a second shell and a new mouth. After the eggs hatch, moon snail sand collars remain intact until they dry out.