Tundra Survey - Cracked Radiator, Bum Transmission
(self-released)
Starting with the glacial “Delta” and finishing with the melancholy “Handset Sirens,” this little record is
Anyway, Tundra Survey have created a pretty great album, here. The beginning track, “Delta,” is a classic Godspeed-esque build, never really erupting but eventually becoming chaotic, unstable, and cathartic. It’s wonderful. The cello is acute and poignant, the guitars amble nicely, and the xylophone percussion added at the loudest parts gives it a fragility that a normal kit would have destroyed. The track is like what Rachel’s would be if they didn’t want so much to be classical music and forgot all of the Pablo Neruda name checking. The next song, “Flooded Hours,” is one of my favourites. No joke. Again, it’s the guitar-cello combination, and the music just sounds so… defeated, but hopeful, at the same time.
The next track begins with a confident string piece before a thick sounding guitar starts playing with flute backing it up. Then the strings kick in again, layering the sound. Then the thick guitar drops out. Then it comes back in. Then it goes into a melodic interlude! Crazy! Then there’s some picking and the flute takes up the melody. Everything coalesces in the last couple of minutes, and the song becomes a lot more tragic sounding, even though it’s using the same basic melody. The song ends with each part degenerating, until all that’s left is cello and guitar, and static.
“September 31st,” the next track, reminds me of Dirty Three’s “Ancient Celestial Music.” Except where that song builds up gradually over the course of ten minutes, “September 31st” cuts out at the two-minute mark for an extended interlude of a guitar picking the same note over and over, with minimal strings in the background. That then explodes into livelier guitar and more aggressive strings. If there’s one complaint I have for the Tundra Survey, it’s that all of their songs follow the same pattern.
The proceeding track employs the ghostly chorus of voices that I talked about earlier, and it’s one of the most successful. Sad, haunted, and to the point, it stands out. I can’t make out what they’re singing about, but the strong sense of defeat and utter misery that the song conveys is inherent, and, let me say it… heartbreaking. The lyrics give way to the most interesting use of the Tundra Survey formula, with gentle guitar and string interplay that gives way to string-backed flute. Very interesting.
I’m going to skip ahead a bit, as so this review isn’t too long, and get right to the last song. It is easily the best. Easily. It sums up the feelings and moods of the album perfectly, with the entire band singing “pull the fire lights/the colour’s mistaken/we’re always losing/words like an offering/bricked up the fireplace/our weak ends we carried/with sense closed our fingers/silently, silently.” This is highlighted by a viola melody that’s incredibly poignant, and, when coupled with the lyrics and vocal delivery, almost unbearably sad. It hints at no resolution to the sad mood of the album. There’s no happy ending, after all.
The great thing about Cracked Radiator, Bum Transmission is that it follows a definite theme, and it keeps it in mind throughout the whole album. If I were pressed for an answer as to what that theme was, I’d say loneliness, sadness and defeat, although I’m not sure if this is entirely accurate. On the other hand, the record suffers from both lack of variation and almost unrelenting heaviness throughout. I mean, this is a trying listen.
anthony gerace
2001 nov 16
