by Max Goldstein
A split release is a pretty nuanced and intimate gesture. Hopefully the respective halves are different enough to make the whole full-bodied, but cohesive enough to merit pairing. They bring out the best in each other without being redundant. When it works really well, the album can claim its own identity, independent and hopefully transcendent from its parts. As a listener, you understand each artist through their tunes and through the reciprocal tunes. You also understand the album as a singular entity, sovereign from the same structure or consideration as ordinary albums. If this verbose prose is any indicator, You and Me, September’s split release from Tundrastomper’s Sam Brivic and Andrew Jones, expertly embodies these ideals.
This split marks the debut of Andrew’s solo moniker, Candy Andy, an idea in the making for as long as the split itself. Tundrastomper’s music often exhibited his impressive chops, but never before had he written pop songs. This first collection is remarkably self-assured, covering a breadth of styles while retaining a uniting vision. Obviously, his bass skills are present throughout, but the focus and success is the melody and words. “Succulent Song” and “Solid Rock” blossom from cute plaintive bass accompaniment into swirling synth summits, while “Slept Like A Dream” and “I’m Still Learning” are jazzy party anthems featuring a triumphant saxophone solo (by Drew Vandewinckel) and cascading stacks of vocal loops. The lilting melodies often resolve pleasantly, while the snappy grooves and percussion bring to mind the joy and sport of modern jazz-adjacent shredders like Louis Cole or Thundercat. The closing trance of “I’m Still Learning” is particularly memorable—a sample of a child is chopped and screwed, continually and inventively repurposed as chants to weave a thick melodic tapestry under an insistent bass figure.
Lyrically he deftly navigates the sometimes woeful matter of self-reflection thru playful metaphors—the waxing and waning of a bedroom cactus (“what if that succulent is me?”), a child drawing on walls (“go clean up my mess, but there is a stain that won’t ever come out”), and geology (“I’m a rock…slab for brains”). But even that wistful ballad retains whimsy—intoning “geology undergirds me” over an entire scale conjures a character-introduction song that might be in Adventure Time. A lonesome geode critter softly pondering its flaws through music? Maybe.
As for Sam, this is yet another delightfully idiosyncratic entry in the Crimson Blue catalog. Compared to releases past, his side of Y&M trades a bit of playfulness for gravity without sacrificing any of the characteristic quirk. Sam’s songs often employ a variety of unusual structures, but these are relatively consistent—they begin with a mood, build to a central textural climax, and then peel back layers to reveal a hidden treasure. The iconic and inquisitive whistling that begins “Styrofoam Hoam” is suddenly gouged by doom bass, and the dark burbling churn of “Dried Pineapple” gives way to dueling skronk guitars before receding into lonesome slides. Even the interlude/skit spent waiting for someone to finally pick an ice cream flavor enters mysteriously, finds footing on subby bass, and exits through stacked loops without ever finding a flavor!
The lyrics also often follow a cryptic arc—offering eerie, abstract questions (“Why is this home made of styrofoam?” “Why was the room left empty?” “Why in the world would one ever be bored?”) and later landing on solid ground if not answers (“We’re bugs in a jar” “Keeping it going for the sake of knowing even when there’s no thing”). That’s not to say there isn’t some classic Crim in here—“Satisfying Chords” (a literal ode to odes) would’ve played perfectly on any previous release, as would “Confettiless Clown”. The completely saturated salvo of “How It Went” recalls the dense, dizzying apex of “Drampy Weather” from last year’s EP Doin It Up.
The highlights of the whole record are unsurprisingly the songs on which Sam & Andrew collaborate—the sarcastic takedown of the bootstrap-pulling “Self-Made Man,” and sunny meditation on mortality “I Geese.” Backed by the impassioned yelps of Rong’s Olivia W-B, and some loser on the drums (me lol), “SMM” seethes with sputtering bass runs and indignant squawks from our so-called “good entrepreneur.” “What do you mean, family wealth is the biggest predictor of success?…no, no, no…I’m a self-made man!” It’s scathing, hysterically funny, and incisive. By contrast, “I Geese” is a ray of sunshine. Shimmery acoustic guitars soar above Andrew’s jaunty bass, while Sam reflects on the passing of time and of life (“what a glimpse of what to lose, ants were once like craters on the moon”). Despite their different designs, both tunes are guaranteed to make you smile.
Really, the whole release will. In this buffet of heartfelt and homemade songs, you can feel an effervescent curiosity buttressed by a long and storied friendship. In fact, they actually conceived of this split back in the 8th grade! 14ish years later, it’s worth the wait.