The Dust Dive's Dustbowl Dreamin'

There is a perpetual need for boho scenesters stuck in urban confinement to imagine that they are really living in the outback - roughin' it. Must be the constant grayness of city life, or perhaps the internal need for all human beings to occasionally breathe fresh air, see the stars and smell the trees. Brooklyn based The Dust Dive follow this path of reasoning on Claws of Light.

My crystal ball tells me that Dust Dive members Bryan Zimmerman, Laura Ortman, and Ken Switzer most likely have scruffy faces, bedbug hairdos and wear thrift store clothing. Their MySpace bio lists their instrumentation as vocals, samplers, musical saw, violin, drums, electric guitar and Magnus Chord Organ. I get it! These Brooklyn hipsters yearn for an Appalachian connection, perhaps an invitation to Levon Helm's place for sweet potato pie and ginger tea. Bryan, Laura and Ken want to circle the campfire, play Brokeback Mountain on the portable DVD player, and sleep to the sounds of raccoons and coyotes enjoying illicit fun. But their music? Now we are onto something special.

Claws Of Light is a time warp, a transporational vehicle, never mind my nasty grumbling. Like an ever expanding cadre of musicians intent on blurring the line between found sound pastiche and folk music, The Dust Dive spins Americana on its rustic ear, drop in outer space samples and nervous vocal ticks, then rub it raw with the dark side of Oh Brother Where Art Thou? By adding uncomfortable relics of space age technology to even older musical references, The Dust Dive succeed in dissecting/altering/re-juxtaposing what used to be comfy and ordinary, old fashioned and conventional. Dropping spoken word samples taken from CB broadcasts, Sonar interference and the like over plaintive piano, warped violin and emotionless vocals, The Dust Dive make the samples the star, their contribution the supporting act.

"Babyface in a Pickup Truck" imagines our heroes having never landed in New York City, their ears as virgin as Jon Voight's brain in Midnight Cowboy. The song bumps and jerks like a homeless guy falling off a subway seat. "Postcards" drapes spooky space chatter (some guy mumbling "Doreen, Doreen, Doreen") with timestretched SOS messages as Zimmerman sings about "possums, cat's bowls and slugs bathing in the moonlight." It's a dirge of twilight somnambulism, fueled by bad deli coffee and Snickers. The title track is sunny by comparison, Zimmerman's cryptic lyrics and sleepyhead vocals flowing gently over radiant guitars and a sweet sense of ennui.

The Dust Dive
"Claws of Light" (mp3)
from "Claws of Light"
(Own Records)

More On This Album

Boomerangs, Seesaws & A Beautiful New Talent

Shannon Curtis has been described as the love child of Fiona Apple and Norah Jones. She sings in a similarly soulful and soul searching manner, her songs swinging like a square dance of humility and regret. But her sparse music also hints at something grander, alluding to wide open spaces, possibilities and the passage of time. Curtis (and her expressive piano playing, often all she needs) deserves serious attention. Catch more Shannon Curtis at http://www.shannoncurtis.net/

"Boomerangs & Seesaws"

"Wasted"