By: Iyas Daghlas
A blank piece of paper, an empty Ableton arrangement, and the question “where do you want to eat?” The directions that could be taken are effectively limitless. To abate the feeling of overwhelmingness, you create an artificial limitation. A prompt, a specific genre, an ethnicity. The word “limitation,” however, seems to conflict with creativity. To be creative you must be free. But recognize that freedom can be a suffocating constraint in and of itself.
Duster’s Stratosphere embodies limitation. Which is funny because they’re a “space rock” band, and space is endless. The techniques used throughout the album don’t change much: similar chord progressions, circular guitar arpeggios, muffled vocals, lo-fi production. The album artwork reminds me of Mark Rothko’s simple, but striking paintings. Most of all, Stratosphere is constrained by the number four: the album was recorded on a 4-track.
As a result of these limitations, Stratosphere doesn’t use extensive layering, exotic synths, and sampled sounds to build an atmosphere. Rather, they heavily rely upon dynamics and song composition. Arpeggios loop back and forth upon one another and build tension until cathartic release. Modest Mouse used very similar techniques on The Lonesome Crowded West, which was released in 1997, a year before Stratosphere. Both bands released their early material on Up Records (alongside Built to Spill). The stark compositions and deep, warm production make for a highly memorable listening experience.
In listening to the title track, I imagine an astronaut with his face pressed against the shuttle’s window, attempting to process the vast expanses of space. Have you ever tried to think of something so big it made your head hurt? A throbbing drone brilliantly captures that overwhelmingness. A sudden crash of cymbals at 2:20 perhaps reflects a moment of exhilarating lucidity when everything makes sense in your gut but you can’t put it into words. And suddenly the experience is over just as quickly as it began. The strength of Stratosphere is in these tracks that offer moving, but transient moments of introspection.
The structure of “Gold Dust” also reflects space travel. The track seemingly orbits around a G note picked with a very subtle finger vibrato. The exceedingly simple ohrwurm will echo bravo in your ears long after the track is over, and strongly parallels the effect of the A note used in Pavement’s “Gold Soundz”; note that Duster and Pavement were active around the same time in California. It’s also worth knowing that Jason Albertini, Duster’s drummer, went on to form Helvetia which has included Built to Spill’s Jim Roth and Scott Plouf. They recently released the album Dromomania which is far removed from the subtlety of Stratosphere, but still worth a listen. Duster’s use of drone is yet another testament to the power of constraint in fueling creativity.
A second into “Topical Solution” and the musicians have created an atmosphere thick with nostalgia and mystery. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what makes this album so good at evoking feeling. I still can’t pin my finger on it. Although It’s not the genre they’re classified into, Duster lay waste to the majority of post-rock music that tries so hard to make you feel something, but ultimately comes off as contrived. I’ve searched high and low on for information on the band and, apart from a terse interview, there is nothing to be found about Duster or Stratosphere. Perhaps that is a good thing, as reading such statements and interviews has always struck me as cheating. Not coming up with the answer on your own-- a musical sparknotes. As a STEM student I can struggle with open-ended questions. I recognize, however, that those questions give life depth and color.
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