There’s something immediately unhinged, and refreshingly intentional, about Sarcastic Psychosis, the latest album from Space Tequila. From the moment the record kicks off, it’s clear this isn’t an album meant to sit politely in the background. Instead, it grabs you by the collar, smirks knowingly, and drags you through a swirling mix of genre-bending chaos that somehow feels both reckless and yet meticulously planned.
The solo project out of Colorado hails from the mind of Alex Martini. The multi-talented artist writes and records all of his own music. Space Tequila is also proud to say that the music is 100% AI free.
Sonically, Sarcastic Psychosis lives in the cracks between alternative rock, psychedelic experimentation, and off-kilter pop sensibilities. Space Tequila thrives on contrast: fuzzy, distorted guitars slam headfirst into melodic hooks, while warped synth textures and unexpected rhythmic shifts keep the listener slightly off balance. This push and pull is one of the album’s greatest strengths. Just when a track feels like it’s settling into familiar territory, it veers sharply left, reminding you that predictability has no place here.
The opener “Fast One” hits like a punch you saw coming but didn’t bother trying to dodge. It’s propulsive and nervy — a near-four-minute sprint that exchanges tidy verses for jagged guitar breaks. Space Tequila’s sarcastic edge is already in full force here; the melody pulls you in while the attitude pulls you sideways. It’s the perfect opener for the chaotic tone of the album.
Perhaps the album’s most compelling song, “Get Close” slows the pace just enough to showcase emotional vulnerability beneath the sarcasm. The verse opens with restrained instrumentation before crashing into layered power-chord catharsis — an affecting blend of indie rock sensibility and hard-edge attitude.
By the mid-album, Space Tequila shifts into heavier territory. “Razors Edge” chops at its rhythm like a blade through tension, while “Tone Deaf” doubles down on jagged riffs and snarky vocal delivery. These tracks feel angrier and more defiant. There’s a raw, almost punk urgency that underscores the catarsis of the album.
Closing out with “RocknRoll (remix) feels like a wink to the multitude of directions that the music can take you. Smooth/Rough/Raw/Refined. It serves as a fitting epilogue: Space Tequila acknowledging its own playful self-awareness.
Sarcastic Psychosis isn’t an album of subtle introspection — it’s loud, opinionated, and fully aware of its own contradictions. It thrives on the tension between snark and sincerity, harnessing that push-and-pull to craft an indie rock statement that doesn’t just ask for attention — it laughs while doing it.
