In the latest parts of summer, dust seems to linger a little longer in the air around here. It swirls and dances in the wind, backlit by the waning summer sun, whose warmth gently fades as fall rolls in. Then, before the icy cold and encroaching darkness of winter push us deeper into scarves and sweaters, we get to enjoy the gentle stillness of a sleepy prairie autumn. A perfect pairing for this time of transition is the music of Tyle.
Tyle, the performing name of one Kyle James Chyzyk, is self-described as a “sadcore guitarist,” “loop pedal expressionist,” and “debutant Fransaskois.” Tyle, not unlike his music, is clearly a dense bundle waiting to be unpacked. Unencumbered by words in either English or French, Tyle weaves tapestries of sonic texture by looping guitar parts on top of one another. The result is a sound that settles well as the prairies doze in preparation for a long winter’s sleep. Bright pinpricks of colour poke through a seemingly stagnant wash of greying neutral tones. There is monotony in Tyle’s work, but, like the falling leaves that accompany the settling chill of fall, there are moments of beauty amplified by their context.
Tyle’s first album, Vial, is a modest, yet exciting offering. The gentle, blossoming sounds of electric guitars afloat in reverb and delay drew me in and lulled me into a peaceful state of reflection. Shimmering guitars build and break making the perfect soundtrack for a contemplative walk or a blind contour drawing. The stand out track for me is “Escape From Vancouver”…
The song is built upon a foundation of hopeful forward motion with delicate, shimmering guitar melodies guiding the listener home. It’s short for a post-rock song (3:17 – perfect for radio), and leaves me wanting more. Thus, I see the song as a microcosm for Tyle as a whole. I enjoyed Vial, and perhaps one of its greatest strengths is that I still want more. I think we can expect great things from Tyle in the future.
Music like this (see post-rock greats like Godspeed You! Black Emperor, This Will Destroy You, Explosions in the Sky, or the cool parts of Coldplay for more) has always felt intensely related to the physical makeup of Saskatchewan. Vast, shifting skies, sprawling prairie landscapes, and bold, untamed winds permeate this province. Perhaps even more interesting is the seemingly impossible existence of human life; a result, from the Indigenous residents of this land to now, of perseverance, patience, and resourcefulness. Though inextricably tied to his one-time home of Vancouver, Tyle’s music connects just as directly with the Saskatchewan landscape, and as seasons change, I welcome his music into my playlists. Layers of guitar sound like a slow prairie sunset, and reverb textures capture the wind that sweeps the plains. Repetition of parts captures the meditative nature of rolling Saskatchewan hills while the emotional underpinning of it all carries a deeply human nature. What’s more, it’s music that requires patience and perseverance. Every layer is carefully and meticulously placed to build a puzzle whose image might not make sense until the last piece.
Tyle isn’t about hooks and charm. It’s not about immediacy and urgency. It’s about waiting. It’s about letting the music wash over you. It’s about giving chances. It’s about believing that beauty is worth more than our shallowest interest and that we owe it to ourselves to wait and see.
Catch Tyle live at the German Club this Friday (October 6th) with heavy bands Oracles of Oppression and Adolyne.
By Dana Rempel