Sometimes I think about all of the music I've heard in my life. Hundreds upon hundreds of hours of sounds drifting into my head - albums, radio, live performances, passing someone on the sidewalk as they hum a tune to themselves. It's almost incomprehensible how much music I've been actively and passively exposed to.

Then I think about the other side: how much music exists that I haven't heard? How much exists that I'll never hear? Where's all the music that's shown to no one, that's made by people who died before I was even born? For a while, Jesus on the Moon, AKA Jake Frye, was stockpiling songs in a basement.

"It started out about eight years ago," says Frye. "Really, Jesus on the Moon started out as a name for a bunch of songs that I had been recording in a basement in Kalamazoo, Michigan, which is where I came from. For about a year, I kept recording songs and, before I knew it, I probably had eighty or a hundred songs just sitting there. I thought, ‘You know, I like these songs. I should play them live.'"

Having relocated to the South Sound, Frye, an English teacher, found a bassist in one of his former students, Derek Reed. Suddenly, the prospect of sharing Jesus on the Moon became a reality. The two of them, along with a drum machine, began showing Jesus on the Moon to audiences. But, while Jesus on the Moon tends toward a sort of jumpy, Devo-ish vibe, Frye was simultaneously playing in a band with a rather different sound: Le Lo/Fi.

"I ended up playing in Le Lo/Fi for a while, which kind of taught me how to play guitar live," says Frye. "It made me figure out my setup - you know, guitar pedals and all that stuff that I had never thought about because I had always just recorded guitar; I didn't perform it live."

But where Le Lo/Fi is all about this big sound and shoegaze-y textures, Jesus on the Moon is a much more modest venture. Simple drum machine patterns run under fairly unadorned electric guitars, creating a gently driving momentum, on some songs. Other songs up the spaced-out moodiness, like "Divide" and "In a Spell." Still, songs like "Proletariat Rock" could pass for Dave Edmunds outtakes.

This sort of freedom of experimentation telegraphs the bedroom pop origins of Jesus on the Moon. When you're able to do whatever you want within the limits of your abilities without worrying about anyone seeing or hearing it, the itch for flexibility and experimentation is easily scratched.

Frye cites the absurdly prolific indie godfathers, Guided By Voices, as one of his biggest influences, and it's hard to miss why. Robert Pollard and Guided By Voices were not only flag-bearers of the lo-fi genre, but also possessed that same freedom and taste for constant movement that Frye possesses. Both Jesus on the Moon and Guided By Voices are drawn to the craft of an unimpeachable pop song, but are too creative and in their own heads to ever do just that. There is always a quirky twist in their writing.

Out of the hundred or so songs that Frye claims to have written, he's only released a fraction of that. Whether or not the rest will see the light of day is the question. What happens to the songs that no one will ever hear?

JESUS ON THE MOON, w/ Tortilla Flat, 9 p.m., Saturday, July 20, The New Frontier Lounge, 301 E. 25th St., Tacoma, cover tba, 253.572.4020