Tip Of A Tiny Bell by Tendon Levey: A Sonic Kaleidoscope That Won’t Let Go
Let’s get one thing straight—this album isn’t for everyone. But if you’re into music that feels like it crawled out of some fever dream where pop, rock, and avant-garde collide in a haze of ethereal weirdness, then Tip Of A Tiny Bell might just be your new obsession. Released back in 2010 on the delightfully unhinged Castration Cult label, this record is basically Tendon Levey wearing all the hats: writing, composing, even doing the freakin’ artwork. It’s DIY but not in a “I recorded this in my basement” way—it’s more like, “I built an entire universe here, come hang out.”
The genres? Pop, alternative, rock. The styles? Avant-garde, ethereal. Sounds pretentious as hell, right? But trust me, it works. This isn’t background music to sip coffee to (unless you’re sipping coffee while questioning reality). No, this is front-and-center stuff, demanding your attention and maybe even a little piece of your soul.
Tracks That Stick Like Glue
Okay, let’s zoom in on two tracks because otherwise we’d be here all day. First up, “Dream-Distortion.” Yeah, yeah, I know it’s listed twice with slightly different spellings, but whatever—it’s worth talking about both times. This song hits you like a foggy memory you can’t quite shake. The opening chords are soft, almost hesitant, like they don’t want to wake you up too fast. Then BAM—it builds into this swirling mess of distorted guitars and haunting vocals that make you feel like you’ve stepped into someone else’s dream. And honestly, who doesn’t love feeling like they’re trespassing in another dimension?
Then there’s “Work The Saw,” which appears twice too—guess Tendon really liked it. This track is darker, grittier, like a rusty blade slicing through silk. There’s something hypnotic about the rhythm, almost industrial but still dripping with melody. It’s the kind of song that makes you nod along even when you’re not sure what the lyrics mean—or if they mean anything at all. By the end, you’re left wondering if you should dance or cry or both.
Why Does It Matter?
What sticks with me about Tip Of A Tiny Bell is how unapologetically itself it is. It doesn’t try to fit neatly into any box; instead, it spills over the edges, leaking color and chaos everywhere. Listening to it feels like flipping through pages of someone’s sketchbook, each track a half-finished idea that somehow manages to feel complete anyway.
And maybe that’s why it lingers. You listen once, and it’s confusing. Twice, and it’s intriguing. Three times, and suddenly you realize you’ve been humming “No Sun” under your breath while brushing your teeth. It sneaks up on you like that.
Final Thoughts
Here’s the kicker: I’m still not entirely sure what Tendon Levey was going for with this album. Is it a statement? An experiment? Just some dude messing around in his studio late at night? Who knows. But here’s the thing—it doesn’t matter. What matters is that it exists, bold and strange and unforgettable. If you’re looking for music that challenges you without taking itself too seriously, give Tip Of A Tiny Bell a spin. Just don’t blame me if you start dreaming in distortion.
