On "Call," Reetoxa close out their debut LP with a tender, soul-wrenching glow from what feels like both an intimate moment and something eternal. "Call" (Jason) Written after an impromptu reunion with an ex-lover during a brief flight from Melbourne's gray chill to the Gold Coast's winter sun, "Call" encapsulates the longing for closure that can only come by accepting it will never come. The plot is spare, a weekend of rejuvenated warmth, a sudden silence, and an ache for a phone call never placed. But within that simplicity, Reetoxa finds a deep emotional resonance.
"Call" is the quiet heart of a loud album. The arrangement feels like a swan dying by moonlight, powerful drums like sunlight on water, a thrilling guitar line that lingers like a memory, and bass that hums with unspoken emotion. Jason's voice sounds fragile and gorgeous, full of the hope and heartbreak underscored by moments of reluctant acceptance that define this song. His voice doesn't merely recount the tale, but feels it, quivering at the peripheries of each line as if suspended between letting go and clinging on.
There's a filmic stillness in "Call," an emotional afterglow that descends when the chaos lifts. It's that hush of an ending at the airport, when you look out at the runway lights and feel it's too late. In an age of throwaway singles and overblown noise, "Call" is a potent reminder that some songs don't shout, they whisper, yet echo all the louder for it.
Reetoxa's "Call" not only stands as an album closer, but it is also a great song about the return of love and its silence. A ghostly treasure biding its time before coming to light.