1.21.22 by Matty McPherson
In the Husky Pants Records swing of things, a bootleg Thinking Fellers Union 282 t-shirt is an ancillary to a used CD of Come’s Eleven: Eleven. Also yeah, CDs are perpetually in vogue and more potent than a vinyl, which the cassette is regulated to a merch table exclusive for time travelers from 2008. None of this is exactly shocking, especially considering if you heard the end-of-the-year wrap up podcast with noted-Chicago post-wook gtr plyer Ryley Walker, who personally told us something that amounted to this. However, Mr. Walker’s decision to (almost entirely) forego the cassette has made getting copies of his works in formats that comply with the Tabs Out Ethical Code of Honor an excruciating experience. He’s a son of gun(n) like that.
However, I’d also warrant that this is a respectable MO that purposefully forces a listener like myself to make the commitment to the bizarre times he wants to throw a post on twitter or bandcamp up with an actual tape release. Such was the case when in December he did a no-frills, “by the heads, for the heads” release of a “fried as fuck, practice space drones” tape release entitled DRZWI DOORS; Steve Gunn (who sometimes makes albums for the label that Come and TF282 released stuff on) co-stars as collaborative du jour for this release. Unless you picked up a tape or somehow can badger Mr. Gunn or Mr. Walker to provide you a way to listen to it, then you likely will never hear it. (Or you could just go back to the year-end podcast, where part of it was sampled).
This has one of ‘em blank inserts–Im not sure if its a c30 or c40, who played what, and what the catering situation was like. What sounds we got on both sides though are sizzling, and I continue to hold out for more Walker tape collabs or label samplers. Anyway, Side A kinda sounds like a botched attempt to recreate the emotions brought forth from that ten-minute Coldplay song from last year. This is by no means bad. Excellent bouts of guitar wailing that begets majestic whale noises that Chris Martin and Co. should’ve thought more about. See how prances and glistens, calmly setting up the listener for when a noisier, hulkier sonic mass appears a third of the way down? And even when it turns semi-loud, the duo are careful never to go full hog wild. Well, until its final third, but its often only in contained, nimble doses. When the guitar stops sounding like a whale it terraforms into a bunch of bleeping seagulls. Eventually it becomes a jangly noiser worthy of a freeform dance or images of tightly wound buildings. When Side A is not still, it is never not casual; two minds in a deep listen and practice with each other testing how far they can upset the balance set forth so nicely in the first third.
Side B meanwhile is a little more chipper n’ skipper, replicating that first third of the former’s quietness. It’s opening centers on the two players making a twangy, squiggly sound that is the equivalent of chewing around a sack of sunflower seeds in yr mouth. Eventually if you chew long enough, they become little bits of crushed stars: once again the two take towards a more astral twang as the drone spreads out. Brilliantly, the duo brings back those seagull guitar quips in quick bouts, which ultimately don’t impact this softer (and shorter) piece than the A-side. All in all, a solid fish fry I’d contend.
Limited Edition of 100 Sold Out at Source.