Space is the place and T.A.N.G. is here to tell us about it on their 2023 release, Big Bright Empty Nothing. Recorded and mastered at Flat Black Studios by Luke Tweedy, T.A.N.G. has unleashed a doom-tinted contemplation of the cosmos and the emptiness that stares back.
T.A.N.G. consists of bass player Zach Ryerson, drummer Leo Naughton Herbach and guitarist James Stortz. They make long form instrumental tracks mostly dealing with themes of space, altered states of consciousness and contact with entities of the cosmic-horror variety. Since 2017’s Namek Space Program, recorded in the small town of Decorah at Luther College, T.A.N.G. have put out five albums, Big Bright being the latest, a four-song prog-stoner rock trip.
The album opens with its shortest track, “Towards the Rorschach Nebula,” which offers a meandering guitar that gives the feeling of floating in space, barely tethered to a shuttle while the vast emptiness spreads out in every direction. As the album continues, each track expands in length and concept. The second track, “Voyage Domino,” is just shy of 13 minutes and continues the floaty motif before descending into spacey doom vibes.
“Murphy’s Comet,” the third track, begins with squelching feedback before the tagline riff starts. It creates a feeling of unease and tension. Here, I imagine whatever ship we’re on hurtling into a field of cosmic debris. After nearly five minutes, the song shifts into softer tones, as if giving us time to soak in the grandeur of the nebulae around us. Then, slowly, the song speeds up, Herbach’s snares hitting like mini-meteorites on the ship hull before the heavy riffs come in.
The album cycle ends with “Yuri’s Blues,” which I imagine is a nod to the famous Soviet Cosmonaut. At 21 minutes, it is the longest track and a fitting conclusion to the odyssey a Big Bright Empty Nothing has led us on. The track seems to orbit around a central riff, each cycle getting tighter and tighter until the elliptical loosens to a seemingly doomed trajectory. By the end, there is no sense that we have returned home, more that we must accept that we are lost to the void. There is almost a calm that wraps around the song up until a crashing descent.
T.A.N.G.’s Big Bright Empty Nothing is a doomed journey with moments of serenity, the calm derived from accepting the inevitable. I’d be remiss not to mention the great cover art by Max Green: Hieronymus Bosch filtered through an Adventure Time lens and depicting crashing meteors, burning landscapes and a wizard.
This article was originally published in Little Village’s October 2023 issue.
