Ed. 500 copies in a deluxe custom made book bound gatefold sleeve. To come see Tecumseh return to everything is to walk on thunder with the comforting knowledge of certain annihilation. The group treads dexterously between ultra-low-end doom and old school industrial drone. Pregnant, yawning thrums prime the pump for the annealing to come. The quiet blizzard of growling steel that appears is ferocious enough to draft hairline fracture maps upon the nearest bones. The variety of shuddering attacks makes the heavy atmosphere breathable. Dig the new breed of metallic gods.
"Tecumseh ‘return to everything’ (beta lactam ring). From the dark side of the drone, something wicked looms with brooding intent this way. Named perhaps after the Shawnee chief Tecumseh who legend has it cursed all presidents to be elected to office in a year ending with zero to die in office - 6 presidents succumbed until Reagan broke the spell. Well I say named perhaps - in truth there’s bugger all information to be had about Tecumseh aside the fact they are fondly referred to (by discog.com) as a doom metal ensemble from Portland who number three in their ranks (though on this occasion have expanded operations to invite along three acquaintances) and to date have issued two previous full lengths for Anarchymoon and important. Of prime interest one wouldn’t wonder to admirers of Kranky’s early career catalogue - and here I’m chiefly thinking Tom Carter and Growing - this set recorded some two years ago (March 2009 if you need to split hairs) is in essence one complete 25 minute suite split into three sub plots (does that make sense) - ‘when we loved’, ‘apophis’ and ‘oakca’ are their names / titles. Best experienced through headphones with the volume cranked up to the max so that you get the full added effect of feeling as though your at the epicentre of an Apollo jet system preparing for a countdown sequence. ’return to everything’ burns with unforgiving intensity, clearly informed by the loud / quiet noise axioms as laid to bare by New Zealand’s late 80’s underground scene - the Dead C, Bruce Russell and Roy Montgomery et al - the album opens playfully to what sounds like a psychotropic chime collage that soon dissipates to usher in mechanoid mistrals opening up communication channels and transmitting through the ether an intelligible language from across the deepest realms of the galaxy. From therein the onset of the hulking skull top lifting Roy Montgomery-esque stricken fuzz fired drone riffola takes centre stage endeavouring to pummel you out of existence with its primordial beatnik lunges, the leviathan like low end drone curvatures glower menacingly with white hot intensity only to withdraw and subside in a cavernous haze of celestial choral opines. The storm now having passed over brings with it the relative meditative calm of ‘oakca’ which for all its rasping frenzy an almost trance like sereneness prevails that’s indelibly tutored in a sand blasted archaic Tibetan like spiritual calm and which by our ears makes this release worthy of sitting betwixt your treasured full lengths by Robedor and that excellent John Mueller and Z’EV head to head from a year or so ago. " Losingtoday.com