Someone once described Duster's Stratosphere as taking a bunch of Novocaine and staying in bed under the covers with all the curtains closed. They weren't wrong. I just made a trip down to the Numero Group's outlet store located in Chicago to go pick up a copy of the newly reissued Stratosphere on beautiful cream colored vinyl (kinda like a white mixed with a really light grey). I love it so much. Infamously released on Up Records with original pressings still selling for $250 plus, this record made a splash in the indie world as being "the" sad-core album. What does sad-core and the aptly named "slow-core" tags mean? Well, the music is drone-like - ambient and repetitive by nature. Much of the record was recorded in a garage in California on tape recorders, fully embracing the low-fi sound of the earlier 90's indie rock sounds. But this album is by no means a foray into the absurd as many of the other low-fi albums like to play with. This album is deathly serious; a journey into the layers of space untraveled by most other musicians. There is a story to be told in its grooves, of whispered voices and constant feedback bombardment. Its meaning is littered with vague space junk and hazy skies. I'm so glad to have it on vinyl finally and be able to listen to it whenever as such - this is a true modern classic and a lesson to other bands that you don't need the biggest fanciest studio to record something out of this world.
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