The ghosts of King Crimson and Yes – at least of the members who have
died, I guess (can you be alive and still be a ghost in some way? I wonder) –
haunt Dustin Carlson, permeating his ideas for how music should be composed and
presented and inspiring in him practices for maximum technical and melodic
output. Put another way, DC likes his prog weird and woolly, and we as
listeners should not want it any other way. I mean, I wish I would’ve written
this descriptive copy: “[This tape] wouldn’t sound out of place … if an
imaginary gospel group ate a tub of LSD and holed up in the studio with Brian
Eno.” A whole tub of LSD! Could you even imagine…
Each of the two sidelong suites winds down different paths, changing
course and cohering as they progress. Trombones and voice begin “Shakes” before
gradually decaying into electronic chaos. A voice and guitar emerges at the end
(yes, there’s the King Crimson comparison) to bring it on home. “The Noise of
Wings” follows a similar pattern, this time beginning with guitar, banjo,
strings, and voice before devolving into a low-frequency bass/spoken fragments
middle section. Carlson’s voice returns with heavily treated echoing guitar,
ending on an angelic note of transcendent beauty. Did I say transcendent
beauty? I did. I’m not kidding. Dustin Carlson’s take on prog and experimental
composition is way more refreshing than it has any right to be – anybody
digging up the dinosaurs of 1970s excess should be overbearingly dull,
shouldn’t they? No – no they shouldn’t. That’s what contemporary American
society would have you believe. I say get back in there and fall in love with
prog all over again. I sure love it like a crazy person.
--Ryan Masteller
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