Look, I’ve been around the block. I’ve heard bands pretend they’ve got something to say when they’ve got nothing but empty riffs and a haircut. Then something like Soliloquy by ReeToxA lands on my desk, and I remember why we do this.
Twenty-six tracks. A double album. A European orchestra. A dude who nearly bankrupted himself and lost his damn mind making it. This is no ordinary record—it’s a war story.
This is the brainchild of Jason McKee, a Melbourne cat who’s been carrying these songs since 1997. Yeah, you read that right. 1997. Back when he was just a teenager in Frankston, soaking up that grunge-era filth—Pearl Jam, Radiohead, all the good stuff. Life, as it does, threw him curveballs. Time inside. The death of his mother. AA meetings where he picked up the moniker “ReeToxA.” But the songs? They stuck around. Only one, “Bottle,” survived those early years. The rest were shelved, unfinished, waiting.
Then COVID hit. Couldn’t even record his debut proper. So what does McKee do? He says screw it and starts building Soliloquy. Living on cigarettes and coffee, pushing himself to the absolute brink, digging through memories, fears, his whole life story. Originally this beast was supposed to be six albums. Six! But McKee had the guts to pare it down to the 26 tracks that actually flowed. That’s called having vision, people.
McKee didn’t go it alone. He brought in some heavy hitters. We’re talking ARIA-nominated producer Simon Moro, Grammy-nominated engineer Joe Carra. The rhythm section? Pete Marin on drums, Kit Riley on bass—they locked it down in FOUR DAYS. Four days for the band to track this thing live. Then James Ryan came in for five days of guitar overdubs, layering the grit. Phil Turcio on piano added a day of that ivory soul. McKee says he brought the boys beer and tequila, bonded more on this one, had a blast. You can hear it.
Rock. Straight up rock with a 90s backbone. But then they throw in a string orchestra from Budapest, Hungary. Yeah, you heard me. A whole European orchestra. So you’ve got that grunge-era grime—think Pearl Jam’s teeth—wrapped in these lush, cinematic strings.
Tracks like “Reetoxa” itself are pure energy. “Insatiable” brings those haunting melodies that stick in your skull. Our personal favourite, “Thrift Shop Dress,” has this rhythm and a lyrical wit that shows McKee can laugh at himself while cutting deep. “Akaroa” lets the guitars and strings battle it out, creating this tension that’s just chef’s kiss. “Gown” is another standout—McKee turning his own life into something universal.
This album is 1 hour and 25 minutes of McKee laying himself bare. Just decades of ideas, memories, and emotions finally taking shape. He risked his life savings. His sanity. He changed his name from Westerhof to McKee to honour his mother during this process, lost voice notes and memos when he switched Apple accounts, and still pulled these songs from the wreckage.
Soliloquy is a middle finger to anyone who says rock is dead. It’s a reminder that the best music comes from obsession, from pain, from refusing to let the songs die.
ReeToxA’s putting a live band together now. Tour’s hopefully happening this year. Do yourself a favour—stream this thing loud. Support the dude who put it all on the line. Because in a world of disposable playlists, Soliloquy is the real damn deal.