The turnout was overwhelmingly young at Webster Hall on Wednesday, October 2, for Duster, a heavy, depressing-sounding (in a good way) band that initially released music at a time when most of the audience was in grade school.
Their debut album, Stratosphere, was released in 1998, at least five years before most of the hands gripping the stage barrier, marked by black X’s for audience members under 21, were born.
As Duster’s set time approached, OG Duster fans and veteran concertgoers who skipped the opener began to fill in GA behind a wave of younglings. Shoegaze is the new dad rock, with bands like Duster, Slowdive, and My Bloody Valentine ballooning in popularity with the under-25 crowd, arguably eclipsing their initial popularity.
Duster has a perfect grip on the audience’s attention, purposefully subdued, choosing when to cater to the audience. After the first two songs, young voices called out from the crowd, “Turn up your mics. We can’t hear you!” From the stage, Canaan Amber replied softly and succinctly, “No.” As the show continued, the overhead lights faded, and only the LED screen behind them remained, silhouetting them against pulsing and swimming colors.
The term “shoegaze” can only describe the textural aspect of Duster’s music and leaves out the most gripping part of their sound: tempo. Often called slowcore, a subgenre interested in intensely slow tempos, head banging here is more like nodding with the slow heartbeat of drums and droning guitars.
Duster seems to pull the tempo even harder live than on the studio recordings, often leaving the audience leaning in before finally reaching the climax of the songs. Injecting a burst of energy for but a moment, and yet, when each song concludes, the audience erupts, held in stasis until one intensely gratifying moment. It’s an exciting feeling that is very different live versus listening at home. Now, Duster makes their way through the midwest until they reach California for two shows at the beginning of November to conclude their tour.
Wordlessly, London-based Nilüfer Yanya and her four-man band shuffle onto the Brooklyn Steel stage Tuesday night, launching right into the title single of her third album, MyMethodActor.
No second wasted, the indie-rock singer doesn’t come up for air until the end of the third song, “Chase Me,” acknowledging the audience for the first time with four words: “Wow, so many people,” she smiles.
Photos by Zachary Giller
The concession feels tongue-in-cheek, as Nilüfer picks up speed with “Like I Say (I runway)” and any sense there are witnesses present fades away. Though every inch of Brooklyn Steel is filled to capacity and the praise is thunderous, Nilüfer spends each verse singing nearly to herself, eyes lidded, looking but not really, it feels, registering anything or anyone in particular, as she gazes out into the crowd.
Photos by Zachary Giller
As she sings about running on borrowed time, you’re quick to understand that her sense of urgency is innate and learned. The settled mutual understanding permeates listeners, who are but happy to sway and hold any and all unadulterated applause for each track’s end.
Photos by Zachary Giller
It’s hard to say what she’s seeing, if not the hundreds of people in attendance, but you spend the hour-long set feeling as if you’re an intruder who stumbled across a girl singing alone in the woods, just happy to partake in the intimate scene. Make no mistake about the intended audience, however, as it becomes clear that each detail has been meticulously accounted for, including the aural tapestry of live sax for an upbeat jazz take.
Photos by Zachary Giller
At the show’s mid-way point, the momentum of Nilüfer’s well-orchestrated production swings in tandem with her solo acoustic rendition of “Heavyweight Champion of the Year,” the finale on her 2019 debut, “Miss Universe,” which earned the singer-songwriter Pitchfork’s Best New Music (a feat she’s achieved three times over). It’s an apt choice, with her angry staccato guitar strums only elevating her earnest frustrations, pained voice malleable and ever-flowing.
Photos by Zachary Giller
It’s also the show’s pinnacle, beholding entranced listeners to her writhing torments over the loss of self-jurisdiction and damning physical fatigue from “a lack of sleep” over nights spent tossing and turning. At no point is the plot lost as Nilüfer tears through “Binding,” feeling more resolute in her convictions, and the crowd is likewise, renewed with energy, as she croons: “I don’t want what’s left, got to give me something strong, got to make sure it’s your best.”
Photos by Zachary Giller
Waves of interludes weave the audience purposefully from one sequence to the next of Nilüfer’s purgatory tale. Even a rare cheer or whoop of appreciation feels out of place and almost sanctimonious, detracting from the world Nilüfer has built within and around herself. There’s just one brief moment where her absolute reign slips — a momentary technical difficulty that lasts but five seconds — and she chuckles, unsure. You’re instantly attuned that this is someone who regularly seizes utmost control of the moment.
Photos by Zachary Giller
Nilüfer’s pain quickly turns into exuberance — a pity party is still, after all, a party — and there’s a resounding resurgence in the final act as she launches into “the dealer” and ‘stabilise,” off the 2022 “PAINLESS.” There’s even a reclamation of narrative as she sheds her victimhood, in a rendition of PJ Harvey’s “Rid of Me.”
Photos by Zachary Giller
“I’ll tie your legs, keep you against my chest, oh, you’re not rid of me,” she sings in defiance against her former lovers and whoever else has wronged her, waking many in the pit from their deferential slumber. The Greek god of sleep, the gentle-dispositioned Hypnos, is said to own nearly half the lives of humans as he steers them through rest. As Nilüfer closes the show with the last exuberant dregs of “midnight sun,” it feels like she’s saying, to followers emerging from their trance, to look into the light of a new day, inherently triumphant in all its rich possibilities.
The Brooklyn-based band Shower Curtain has released “benadryl man,” their second single from their upcoming album Words From a Wishing Well, out on October 18.
Shower Curtain, the four-piece band led by vocalist Victoria Winter has become a new fixture in the Brooklyn Shoegaze scene. As a band, they have been steadily releasing music since 2020, with the release of their self-titled EP. Now, four years later, their first album is set to release in October on Angel Tapes/Fire Talk Records. Their sound has evolved quite a bit over this period culminating in an album that contains more introspective lyrics than previous works.
“benadryl man” in particular contains the hauntingly visual lyrics, “He’s hanging out when I’m not around,” Which rather than explaining a ‘nightmare,’ recounts a grotesque mystery; a discomfort to be sure, but one that reflects a disappointing reality instead of a genuine horror. A common theme in these songs is the yearning for a lost innocence left behind in childhood. This is visualized in the music video (see below) for their newest song, which features stuffed animals and tea parties… but make it creepy.
Victoria Winter, says, “‘benadryl man’ tells the story of my issues with sleeping and anxiety. I see a figure sitting on my couch and it prevents me from entering a stage of peace, moreover not feeling safe in my home. The instrumentals are a little sinister and creepy, and I always envisioned having strings on this.”
The songs of Shower Curtain take the principles of the shoegaze sound of the nineties, (particularly reminiscent of those with female vocalists such as Lush or my bloody valentine) but by utilizing the vocals as the lead of the tracks, rather than riffs, it tightens to gap toward pop which brings a distinctly modern feeling.
On Sep 28, they’ll perform at Baby’s All Right in Brooklyn with Winter.
DIIV, a beloved band from Brooklyn, has once again captured the hearts of fans with their latest album, Frog in Boiling Water. This record showcases a band that has truly evolved while staying true to their atmospheric roots. The album and its singles—such as “Brown Paper Bag,”—have been met with widespread fan acclaim.
Frog in Boiling Water is more than just a collection of songs; it’s a testament to DIIV’s perseverance and growth. The album’s creation was a four-year odyssey that nearly pushed the band to its limits. With a desire to push their sound to new frontiers, DIIV embarked on an ambitious journey, navigating their own relationships and the pressures of the music industry. Fraying friendships, financial strains, and creative differences marked the process, but the band emerged from this chaos with an album that dives deep into new lyrical and musical territories.
The result is a record that is as gorgeous as it is haunted. Frog in Boiling Water balances powerful rhythms inspired by post-industrial sounds, creating a sound that is both mighty and ethereal. It’s a mesmeric reflection on endurance, capturing the essence of existing.
If you missed DIIV at their most recent homecoming show at Brooklyn Paramount, make sure to catch them live the next time they’re in New York. With each performance, DIIV not only solidifies their place in the indie music scene but also redefines what it means to create immersive, emotional art.
New York City-based goth and shoegaze band Silent Mass has released a new brooding and dark single, “The Great Chaos.” The song will appear on the band’s forthcoming debut album, The Great Chaos, which is set to come out on June 20.
Silent Mass is an up-and-coming goth and shoegaze band with a unique blend of musical roots. Elements of post-punk, ethereal wave, shoegaze, and 90s alternative are all present in their music, just to name a few. Although only having a total of seven officially released songs available before their debut record, Silent Mass has already cornered in on the perfectly despondent and melancholic aesthetic that allows songs like “Nest of Flowers” and their new single “The Great Chaos” to shine. New York City is a well suited home for Silent Mass considering the melting pot of inspirations that contribute to their music.
Silent Mass began as a solo pursuit by current writer, producer and vocalist Ammo Bankoff. Her debut single, a cover of “Total Recall,” was released in 2020 as a tribute to Adrian Borland & The Sound. Shortly after the single’s release, Bankoff joined audio engineer/guitarist Robert Duncan and relocated to New York City to join drummer/producer Alex Posell.
Once fully assembled, Silent Mass released two singles in 2021 and three more in 2024. Their latest single, “The Great Chaos,” is the title track off of their upcoming long-awaited debut album. “‘The Great Chaos’ finds beauty in the spiral of self-discovery. It’s a love song about mourning a version of your past self,” said Ammo.
“The Great Chaos” sees Silent Mass in their element. The four-minute slow and hazy track is particularly held up by the chilling hook, where Ammo sings, “Can you find a way out, can you find a way out, can you find a way out of this nightmare?” over a wall of percussion, synths and guitar.
With seemingly everything set and ready for their upcoming debut record, “The Great Chaos” may very well be the last taste we get of Silent Mass’s dense and experimental sound before the full record releases on this summer solstice.
Silent Mass also has an upcoming show in New York City on July 13.
