by Conor Lochrie (@conornoconnor)
Time has become a very strange thing since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. When you’re stuck in one place for so long - far too long - all understanding of it becomes warped; days have gone by, you think to yourself, but it turns out to be entire weeks; you simultaneously feel like you’ve got all the fucking freedom in the world to do what you want yet it also feels like oblivion is just a turn away; you want to be doing something and also doing nothing at all.
If you’re a jam band, then, how does the increased strangeness of time affect your music - the most languorous and languid of rock forms purportedly given even more space and time to thrive in? If you’re Tonstartssbandht, you actually contradictingly make your most cohesive and tight collection of songs yet. Time has become a very strange thing since COVID-19.
Composed of Florida brothers Edwin and Andy White, Petunia might be their 18th release together but it’s actually only their second time producing it in the studio. Mostly written and recorded in their home city of Orlando last year, it made a change from piecing together their records while on tour (I first became aware of Andy as a teenager when he joined Mac DeMarco’s touring band as guitarist - there was a strange dissonance when I then encountered the psychedelic and esoteric jams of his project with his brother). The only marked change the studio has provided is a slightly cleaner sheen, a tighter level of production; there is luckily no sign of their freewheeling spirit being dismissed.
When you’ve been making a lot of music for a long, long time, intimacy and intricacy comes easily, and so it is on Petunia. There are several surprising but subtle tempo changes throughout most of the songs but they somehow feel so natural; they’re really only using a guitar and a drum kit but the sound feels so generous and dynamic. Again owing to their brotherly connection, the vocal harmonies are delightful. The frequent dips into falsetto are sincerely done, the murmuring delivery wistful and solemn.
At this point, a confession: when I first came to Tonstartssbandht’s music, I wasn’t ready: I resented them for their irritable name; I disliked their relentless noodling, having become accustomed to jam bands like Phish being regularly mocked. I put coolness before creativity, in other words. It also feels like the brothers almost got suffocated in the slacker rock era of the last decade (which was largely spurred by the success of DeMarco) but their inquisitive grooves and intriguing experimentation helped them rise above it.
They never hide on Petunia. ‘Pass Away’ immediately throws the listener into the thick of it, a winding jam that stretches to almost eight minutes. Percussive shaking guides the way forward like the marshall directing the airplane into position; the sweet and light guitar picking is wondrous, with the riffs conjured so easily as if they were stored in their back pockets for days in the lead up to recording.
‘Hey Bad’ is not as ambling, more overtly groovy and melodic. The drums provide a stoic platform on ‘Falloff,’ the beat increasing assuredly over its eight minutes. In the album’s middle, the short but still fascinating ‘Magic Pig’ and ‘All of My Children’ offer a chance to catch one’s breath: the former contains a Beach Boys pop simplicity while the latter sounds like the bubbling chords of ‘Baba O’Riley’ by The Who or the electronic experimentation of Arthur Russell (how wonderful to conceive of a song that could be by both The Who or Arthur Russell).
Their songs are living organisms, always evolving, always growing; Edwin and Andy wisely afford themselves so much leeway to do so. It’s interesting to note the recent rise of ostensibly post-punk artists such as Black Midi and Black Country, New Road, who are vividly revelling in such similar freedom of space and structure.
One of this year’s best tracks is also contained in Petunia. ‘What Has Happened’ is a cyclical journey into some form of oblivion, drifting towards some end with a weary beauty. The vocals are explicitly melancholic, the percussion shaking drowsily, the guitar thrumming despondently. When its seven minutes are up, the immediate feeling is one of disappointment that the journey is over already.
Tonstartssbandht are a band born out of time. Edwin and Andy might long for the glory period of jam bands in the 60’s and 70’s but what they’ve managed to achieve is a modernization of the form: they’ve struck a sensible balance between laidback cool and insular uncool, mystical spirit and inviting energy. Their psychedelia and prog rock-inflected sound is experimental but never enervating. It’s a testament to their ability and connection that Petunia might be their best work together yet.