Columbus, Ohio, USA

New Cosmic American Music.
This is the sum of the over ten years TK Webb & Dustin White spent putting out records and living on the road prior to meeting.
TK both solo and with TK Webb & the Visions.
Dustin as a member/producer for Times New VIking, SeaWolf, and Moons.
But this is a band. Period.


Sundown – Just as the name suggests their music is a smoldering psychedelic blues toying with a far-off horizon with a slow-burning and soft-buzzing underbelly that could be likened to sawdust shoegaze theatrics. Still the songs of TK Webb – what drive Sundown -- seem too natural, to comfortable, to merely chalk them up to roadhouse saloons with Swervedriver on the jukebox.
TK Webb knows his way around a stage, around a tub-thump, around a floor-stomp, around a journeyman’s cadence. You’d think he was born with a beer bottle in his crib and a pocket full of sorrow. You’d think by now, after gigging in various acts in New York City, be it with the Visions, Phantom Parade, or as a solo artist, he could migrate to Columbus, Ohio and act in the role of jaded huckster, the snake-oil salesman, but instead he dug his nails into the bar again and adjusted himself to the local color. The hues of Columbus are as varied as they come, but Webb gravitated towards a motley bunch, namely dudes who pride themselves on an encyclopedic knowledge of Krautrock, Lomax folk and well-worn copies of Tape-Op.
With a rhythm section of Grant Driskell on bass and Blake Pfister on drums respectively, the core of Sundown needs no fine tuning. That leaves veteran psych-wizard Dusty White (who’s logged countless hours in numerous bands of the past) to speckle Webb’s loner musings with pure cosmic vibes, be they slung with guitar or metered out on the organ. Whether it’s the experience brought through Webb’s songs or the telepathic connection had the first time Sundown plugged in to jam, there’s a dynamic here rarely heard in bands this fresh and green.
Barely together for a 6 months and Sundown have already accumulated a wealth of tunes, each standing epic in their own way as if ready to score those “dawn of man” scenes in Kubrick’s 2001. “If I Go Down” is Webb’s trademark snarl n’ lament. It’s a crunchy, rough, Americana. Scratch that, this is American Experience music and should hew nowhere close to the Son Volts and Jayhawks that tend to romanticize the genre. For Sundown, that genre is shot and spent -- the borders are blurry between a number of regions, accents, and astral planes. “Sleepy Song” makes the endless horizon a mirage – a road song with no destination. “Forever This Far” is the next morning, a semi-spiritual awakening found in a blanket of organ. “Fog” tends to give off heavy arena-rock reverberations, were there only a select few standing in the center of the floor to witness the earnest spectacle. When all is said and done the music of Sundown is faithfully rural, with visions of canyons and plateaus, meadows and dense forest, but intercepted by paranormal interference, wobbly psych-submersion, seismic celestial communications, and above all an itch to get back to the city to show the world what they found out deep in the ether.


Mansion Burning LP
CD101 on 102.5 currently playing "life's too long"