“Space folk” doesn’t quite capture the laid back acoustics of Scott Tuma, but this Bathetic tape sure does cement his position as the hero of a certain left behind, star gazer blues. “In Two (By Two)” introduces the split with a soft and distant piano melody that floats in a dusty haze of antique air. The tune presents itself as a fragile music box with a dark back-story. As the melody plays out rickety organs and field-recorded crickets complete the twilight illuminated scene. The elegiac quality of Tuma’s recent work is amplified further as his compositions here play out. “True History” is the stuff that Gus Van Sant’s films are made of. The lazily strummed acoustic guitar and drowsy harmonica could have easily complimented River Phoenix’s character in his narcoleptic journey. The song is a warm and comforting lullaby for midday slumber. “Free Dirt” alters the mood just a bit and sounds similar to Labradford’s earlier material, only with recorded with acoustic instruments and a hearty dose of cymbal washes. There was an element of blown-out country to Flying Saucer Attack’s distorted space rock and Tuma, with his alt-country roots, could be nailing the vibe David Pierce was going for. “Bells Well” opens similar to the opening of the lead track with a heartbreaking piano melody playing out over a lamenting organ. The tune takes on the form of an old American standard that you might know without having even heard it before. Its simplicity is deceiving, and the song is over in only a couple of minutes.
The Brothers Pus are steeped in spooky and otherworldly imagery. The duo’s artwork contains depictions of old time spiritual and vaguely ectoplasmic rituals only add to the groups mystery. Composed as a sort of cut-and-paste collage of material recorded “Around and Thru Scott Tuma,” this split tape’s B-side is the nightmarish foil to Tuma’s soft and airy A-side. Relying largely on a ghostly atmosphere rather than straightforward song structures, The Brothers Pus create a sound that is utterly terrifying and much more harrowing than any black metal band could hope to muster. The sidelong piece starts off as though the tape started playing itself backward and slowed down from lack of battery power. The deep cloud of broad strings fades in as slowly as it can and floats by like a brief encounter with a spirit. The opening minutes are rather unsettling until recognizable instruments and melodies begin to take shape. A haunted waltz strummed and plucked away on broken banjos is slowed down and spaced out like Rameses III offshoot Padang Food Tigers. The warmth only lasts a few moments before the tune dissolves into a collage of distant field recordings and mournful readings. Much like a David Lynch film, the overall effect is like drifting in and out of sleep but seeing only nightmares when your eyes close.
Bathetic
9/10
