In a lot of ways, this album reminds me of His Name is Alive's early, avant garde moments on their first album Livonia just as much as it does Double Leopards and Sunburned Hand of the Man. It is tiny music, as if made by a broken wind-up music box or some all-ant band. It lies underneath you like the the floor and the soil, lulling you with creaky, cranky, oddly tuned sounds.
A CDR reissue of an even more limited tape release, Tongue of Bear captures Davenport's more drone-centric side. The album opens with two very short songs. A bong and some stray slide guitar announce the presence of "Soil March" before a drum heartbeat pounds away, pummeling through twisting guitar chords and clanging, crashing percussion. "Worm Roots" take hold in the freshly broken up soil, as a trancelike zither-sounding guitarline weaves through a cluttered backdrop of fluctuating tones, crying vocals, and much clanging.
After the short intro pieces, the title track takes up the heart of the disc, lasting 17 of its 27 minutes. The same zither-like string sound continues here, but it is quickly overwhelmed by waves of drum cacophony. After the wake, droning feedback takes over, creating a very pleasant industrial humming tone which builds and decays, transforming to a soft rumble then a pulsating massage. Counter-feedback enters the song, harshening the tone and filling it out, creating a great effect.
Two short but not super short songs end the album. A sawing string part creates the dominant tone of "Cast the Rabbit Seed Circle," as spoken vocals, stray pluckings, and a lot of feedback fill the background, creating a congealed mass of sound. To contrast that, "Ox Ox Ox" feels pleasantly bare with just a few bits of pot banging and wind chime shaking to litter the space.
Fans of Stars of the Lid and Double Leopards should really enjoy Tongue of Bear for it's title track. It's in stark contrast to the soft and pleasing folk of Springtime on Saturnalia and Free Country, but it's no less compelling.
