On May 1, Whited Sepulchre Records will release a new split between Canada’s Kyle Bobby Dunn and Indianapolis-based Wayne Robert Thomas. The split will be Dunn’s first physical release since 2014’s And the Infinite Sadness and is described as a ‘warm, albeit compressed, sequel’ to the 3xLP epic. While not as long (it doesn’t have to be),‘The Searchers’ is a twenty-minute exile into the same vacant territory.
Named after the John Ford film of the same name, ‘The Searchers’ is a glimpse into the deserted panorama of the American West and its relationship with those who inhabitant its dry plains, of those who ‘fought, lost and did terrible things to each other in their attempt to claim it’. Widescreen scenes are reflected in the music like a sunspot’s glinting corona, and the lighter, brighter approach steps away from the past’s melancholic achings and soul-deep exhaustions. The dusty backdrop is a major influence on the thoughts and actions of those who live out here, a case of the very environment sinking into the gelatinous bones of the drone. The dry, leathery drone produces a cacophonic chorus, a meaty, glimmering and abrasive texture baked in the sun. This is enemy territory, a battleground where the music vies for overall control.
A shady mood creeps out of a processed electric guitar on ‘Voyevoda’. Seeing the world through its near-perfect eyesight, the track never blurs or disintegrates as it ascends, and while the darker sound is made known through the lower register, it still manages to scale impressive heights. The tone has affected the colour of its eyes: they’re darker because of its lower leanings, and this helps to contrast and compliment the bright hilltops of ‘The Searchers’.
The smooth-as-skin contour shapes the drone, turning it into a perfectly formed orb. The tone’s like beautiful spring blossom, opening up in degrees until the time is right, until the fruit is ripe; copacetic music.