Album: Max Tundra - Mastered By Guy at the Exchange
Max Tundra is my childhood idea of a rock star. A true musical genius, at both times chaotic and expansively ambitious, his sound is one of a bull in a music shop, if that bull was a virtuoso with every instrument. His seemingly improvised and random compositions come out like a Vic-20 off it’s Adderall, but have a precision and twisted logic to them that make them beautiful.
“If I need a trumpet or a violin sound I’ll try and learn the instruments so that I can perform the part I have written for it. If– and only if– a synthesized equivalent is appropriate, I shall use that instead. If a certain street at dawn is required to provide background ambience, I’ll go there at that time and record it.”
Which is why it’s years between his records, as he gets the mess of what’s in his brain out onto tape.
Long ago I was friends with a boy I betrayed,
I was evil, how dare I end up with the one that he craved?
But it turned out alright, ’cause she’s been by my side for an age.
I first heard this record in my days of random shattershot soulseek downloading: find a user who has some album you love dearly, browse their collection, and grab what sounds like it might be interesting. And every track on here was interesting. A frenetic love song comparing her eyes to the ones in his studio; a plea to Michel Gondry to direct a video for one of his songs; a track about the nutritional benefits of lysine (but no mention of the contingency).
More than anything, this album was and is an inspiration: do what you love, dedicate yourself, and you’ll do something beautiful. The LP also includes one of my favorite inner sleeves, with the track listing, and highlighting the six-letter limitation on song titles:
And yes, it was mastered by Guy at the Exchange.