Bonner Kramer • Thurston Moore: They Came Like Swallows

The only surprise about the new collaboration between Bonner Kramer and Thurston Moore is that it hasn’t happened sooner.

A constant sprinkler of fairy-dust led by the storied discography of Galaxie 500, Kramer has also featured behind the soundboards on releases from the likes of Low (I Could Live in Hope, Long Division) and Will Oldham (West Palm Beach) in between his endeavours as founder of Shimmy-Disc. The label with its own storied history, occupying both ends of the spectrum. (Daniel Johnston’s 1990 and Artistic Vice at one; Ween’s The Pod at the other.) 

On the other side of the studio glass, under various guises and in collaboration, Kramer has spent decades toiling away in the shadows. The preceding two years has seen him alongside Pan-American’s Mark Nelson, who together released two full-lengths (2025’s Interior of an Edifice Under the Sea and 2024’s Reverberations of Non-Stop Traffic on Redding Road). Like much of Kramer’s solo works, both have flown under the radar.

Meanwhile, following Sonic Youth and his brief dalliance as Chelsea Light Moving, Moore has continued his crusade. From his eternal love for Merzbow and a plethora of solo releases, to monolithic end of year lists that have, by comparison, made everything else look like a piss in the ocean, Moore continues to be one of the most passionate voices of underground music.

As Kramer and Moore splintered off from New York to other parts of the world, their paths would again cross years later for They Came Like Swallows. An exchange of ideas from afar before finally being stitched together at Moore’s South Florida retreat. And the results are one of the year’s finest experimental collaborations so far.

An album dedicated to children of Gaza as Israel continue to rain hell down on the Palestinian people, They Came Like Swallows maintains a deep catharsis that such topics command. It’s evident from the first note of opening piece, Urn Burial. Kramer’s glittering organs, cutting through Moore’s spidery appregios, as thumping drums sound like an echo from a warzone rumbling in the distance. The duo, creating a friction, and sonically, it’s where punk dwarfs experimentalism.  

The roles are reversed on The Redness in the West. Bowed strings and creeping synths, instilling a fear from afar that has inspired these recordings. On The Third Migration, Moore reaches for the past, leaning into the aesthetics of later-era Sonic Youth. The eponymous song could actually be mistake for an offcut from Murray Street, but with an added layer of Kramer’s knotty synths, the duo find space between kraut-rock and komische.

The slow thrum of The Living Theater sees Moore follow Kramer’s gorgeous piano lines. With every note sparkling off the ivories, it’s a sharp contrast to the harrowing The Oceans Are Crying. Embodying the chaos of They Came Like Swallows’ artwork, Moore’s guardrail-screeching guitars are barely held together by Kramer’s keys. Two languages, combining to form the kind nonsensical conclusions indicative of this world.

And on Insight, Kramer and Moore sign off by underlining its misery. The pair, singing, “I don’t care anymore / I’ve lost the will to want more” – the ultimate requiem to the children of Gaza. The ‘want more’, a minutiae for those of us with unbound freedoms and unchecked privilege. For the innocent people of Gaza and other worn torn countries, it’s nothing but a hollow dream.

Will music made by two underground veterans change that? Probably not, but for those who still have any hope, albums like They Came Like Swallows are a victory in a world that has so few.

They Came Like Swallows is out now on Silver Current Records. Purchase from Bandcamp.