Duster - Stratosphere
Up/Numero Group
February 24th, 1998.
Duster - the band that define what having a defined sound means - and their debut album. Stratosphere: space rock at its finest and most dust-y. Sprinkled with nostalgic soot and backed by a heavy hand of cold shoulders and emotional residue, Stratosphere and its thick set of sounds and resonant hanging-on-for-hope jangles turns 25.
In a world that's wholly theirs, Duster reign. Any other act that attempts a similar thing steps on their toes in someway - in a respectful manner, of course. Imitate the greats. Take influence and make it yours. Surround yourself with the best that the universe has to give. Let it sink in like honey through your eyehole. The stars will align while simultaneously falling apart. Within reach, but never near. Hearts hang heavy. Kindle the soul with a slow-and-swift kick to the temple.
Trodding along in a slab of wet cement. Flailing in slow motion. The dust in your bones. The dust in your lungs. The dust in your heart. Down and out, but never quite defeated - hope remains, for what its worth. Disappointed, hurt, mangled, malaised. Untouched by external frets - they creep in unjustly by internal values, or lack thereof. Alive, but not living. Eyes wide shut. Information lost in transit. The wires are crossed. The damage is done. The soul fused with a dash of confusion - appendaged by the dawning of eternal dusk. The answers are here, but you'll never know their true reason for hanging around. Waiting for their time to shine, they tremble in fear of one day realising their reason for existence. Two ends meet in the middle. Converging on a sense of self. The soul eats itself inside-out.
