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Jay Feelbender’s “Disco Disco” Is a Glitter-Soaked Anthem for Letting Go

  • Writer: Benjamin Griffith
    Benjamin Griffith
  • Aug 6
  • 4 min read
Boot crushing a shiny disco ball, surrounded by industrial pipes and a brick wall. Denim jeans and a gritty urban setting visible.

Toronto alt-pop artist Jay Feelbender makes a bold, sweaty statement with his latest single, “Disco Disco.” The track explodes with pulsating sincerity, capturing the thrill of existing fully in a fleeting moment. It’s not about going viral or building a brand. It’s about dancing like no one’s watching, in someone else’s kitchen, at 2 a.m., with no plans for what comes next. It’s the kind of night you don’t take pictures of because you’re too busy actually living it.


Feelbender (also known as Jacob Switzer) has always had a knack for balancing grit with glitter. With “Disco Disco,” he pushes his rawest instincts to the forefront, choosing emotion over polish. The production by Braden Sauder is immersive and tactile, blending a driving beat with shimmery synths and subtle chaos. Jay’s vocals are delivered with urgency and heart, messy in the best way, like a voice cracking from joy mid-laugh. You can feel the sweat, the grin, the reckless abandon in every note.


But this isn’t a retro disco revival. There are no ironic winks or obvious nods to the past. Instead, Jay builds something entirely his own: a reckless anthem for the overstimulated and a rally cry for those burned out by perfectionism and constant performance. “Disco Disco” is a catharsis on the dance floor. Unapologetic, alive, and real.


For an artist who’s toured with Goodbye Honolulu, Luna Li, Hinds, and The Beaches, “Disco Disco” feels like a solo breakthrough. It’s equal parts playful and profound. Jay Feelbender doesn’t just want you to hear his music. He wants you to feel it, sweat through it, lose yourself in it, and forget the outside world for three and a half shimmering minutes.


"Disco Disco" feels both euphoric and emotionally grounded; how did you strike a balance between fun and vulnerability in this track?


That's what I'm always striving for, so thanks for saying that! Fun and vulnerability are not opposites; they can be closely connected. When you're fully present in a moment, maybe dancing with friends (or alone), there's a kind of quiet bravery in that. You're open, exposed, and even a bit messy.


With Disco Disco, I wanted to capture that feeling. The joy that comes when you stop performing for other people's expectations or some bigger social goal and just move for yourself. 


You've played in several bands; what pushed you to step into the spotlight as Jay Feelbender?


I've been making and releasing solo music since 2013 under the name HeadSpace, but back then, it always felt like something I did just for myself. The bands I was in felt more outward-facing as if we were pushing toward something bigger together, which was terrific in its own right.


My solo work, by contrast, was more personal. It had no outside input, no real pressure around how it sounded, how it was assembled, or how it was released. It was just mine. That balance between collaborative projects and a private creative outlet worked well for a while.


But in 2020, after the lockdowns, things shifted. Jay Feelbender started to take center stage. I got into the studio with Braden Sauder at Marquee Sound, and all the things I loved about solo work were still there, but this time, I was ready to treat it as my main focus. And it just clicked. It felt like the beginning of a new chapter for both me and the music.


How has your relationship with "being seen" evolved since writing this song?


I used to think being seen meant presenting a perfect version of myself, everything polished and controlled. But with Disco Disco and my solo work, that shifted. Now, it's less about perfection and more about being honest, even when it feels vulnerable or chaotic. 


What does sincerity in pop music look like to you today?


Honestly, sincerity can be a struggle! We live in an era where people often hide behind irony to shield themselves from judgment. There's this assumption that sincerity in music means stripping everything back: acoustic guitars, sad-boy lyrics, and that kind of vibe. While that can be sincere, for me, sincerity is more about intention. Are you saying what you truly mean? Are you fully owning what you're writing about? Your weirdness, your heartbreak, your joy?


Pop music has room for both glitter and guts. Sometimes, the most sincere thing you can do is write a massive, ridiculous chorus that makes people scream-sing in their cars. That's real, too.


If "Disco Disco" was a scene in a film, what would be happening on screen?


I just finished a music video for Disco Disco, created by Cam Saville. It's built around the idea of digital avatars and the personas we craft online and how we're essentially uploading curated versions of ourselves to the digital realm. But often, it's just the polished, superficial parts we share that create this distorted portrait of who we want the world to think we are.


Visually, the video leans into a glitchy aesthetic, featuring CRT textures, VHS static, and layered effects. There are also nods to classic '80s sci-fi, such as TRON and Brain Damage, as well as iconic anime like the original Ghost in the Shell. (Quick plug: go check the music video out!)


But to answer your question directly, if Disco Disco were a film scene, it might resemble the iconic rave in the intro to Blade, where everyone is dancing under the blood showers. Something surreal, fun, and a little chaotic…that vibe feels right.

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