Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
Dylan Luster might not be a name that the public instantly recognises but the music he has created for his self titled E.P. is one that should catch on quicker than a salesman carrying a suitcase full of Mayonnaise finding a remote village that only has ever tried salt and pepper on its fish and chips.
The exposure to certain musical influences are keenly felt throughout the four songs that make up the Los Angeles musician’s E.P., there is no audible escape from the beauty that resides in the songs and more importantly in the vocals that the young man is able to deliver without impunity, without resignation of the soul and without ever straying from the line he has created.
Alienation is a hard subject to get over in writing, without using certain trigger words to capture the feeling of desperate estrangement, words that are too easily thrown into the mixture, the cauldron of disaffection, and without true understanding on behalf of both artist and listener. Yet Dylan Luster manages to convey a sense of isolation without pandering to the division, without making the feeling of separation from the world hollow or unworthy; this is a voice that captures the essence without over stating, without being gaudy or overbearingly familiar. All he conveys is simple, honest, endearing and instead of the feeling of neglect being the prime urging force, what seeps through is an intimacy, a point of contact in the dark and it is one that makes distance only a touch of magic away.
The four tracks, Hard To Explain, Don’t Know About You, Soul Remains and Where Did You Go offer a friendship, a longing to understand each note that has been born of detachment but one that seeks across the void and only asks to be to held; each moment of separation is fixable, is creatively capable of affection and Dylan Luster conveys that fully and with sincerity.
A wonderful and interesting debut E.P., a name that must be repeated over and over again, this is not the last time you will hear the name Dylan Luster.
Ian D. Hall