Sooj – Crusher Review
Duster and Dirty Art Club drift through slowcore, psychedelia and electronic textures on a collaborative album that finds comfort in uncertainty.
I first listened to Crusher in its entirety while strolling along the river Tagus in Lisbon, Portugal. It was just the start of spring and the sun was setting out west and shining against the water, almost reflecting back at me. It seems fitting, then, to listen to this album by the water as its sound is aquatic and full of liquid spaciousness. It feels like the ultimate siren song, floating in the interim between the sky and the underbelly of the sea.
The album was released back in April this year, and is a collaborative project between Dirty Art Club and Duster under the Numero Group label. The project bridges sonic directions of slowcore and psychedelia, with hints of that lo-fi electronic mixing from Dirty Art Club. On Bandcamp, Sooj describes the album as avoiding the “gravitational pull of nostalgia” which I might agree on. The muffled echoes of reverb don’t completely pull you underwater, but instead leave you floating in the in-between space half gasping for air half holding your breath. The listener isn’t quite engulfed in the past, but hasn’t fully immersed themselves into the future yet, either.
What’s most interesting about this project is that it’s the first full album under collaboration between Duster and Dirty Art Club. The two had worked together back in 2024 for a two-track release called Anhedonia II b/w Ecstasy Cowgirl, which similarly shares a hazy lo-fi sound. Crusher, however, creates a distinct universe. With guitars blurring into a reverberant backdrop, the production and psychedelic leaning leaves you fully immersed in their world without being trapped in it.
The first minute of the album starts with ‘Vers le Couloir de la Perte’. Its soft whispers in the vocal sample almost invite you into another world, asking for a pause before the drift. The next two songs feel like slipping into solitude with a slow, dream-pop vibration. The pacing of the music is understated and gradual as the tempo gradually pulls you in.
Crusher really picks up the fuzz and urgent presence with ‘Double Clutch’. After easing you in with the first songs that are gentle and contemplative, this song comes at you with a jagged edge. Its rhythmic splashes of guitar distortion are sharp and tonal to start, but end with distant echoed voices in a soothing hum. Later, the mood lightens with ‘3,100 Luigis’ as the beat almost lifts you out of a trance. It feels bumpy, light, and optimistic. ‘Lavender’ also follows this lightness but casts a shaded darkness over the water. The vocals almost howl at the moon for a sign, a signal, or a promise.
Following, in ‘Gallo Pinto’ the lyrics reflect a feeling of being fearful of the depth with words of “Magnified lunar eyed, I’m inside horrified”. It's almost harsh and angry, like a dip in mood after the soft hope of the music before. It’s pure cosmic storytelling, simultaneously moody and uplifting.
The closing song, ‘Moonbag’ evokes a sense of acceptance. It conjures something sweetly atmospheric and tranquil. The repetition of the guitar gives the track a quietly hypnotic quality, leaving it suspended rather than resolved. The sound elicits an understanding that like many things in life, there is not always a black and white answer to everything. It reminds you that the glass may always be half empty sometimes but that there is still room for fullness in the ether.
Overall, this album is a brilliant culmination of both Duster and Dirty Art Club, while still being a singular ocean pearl standing still on its own merit. The one word that seems to assess the feeling of the album would be ‘melting’, though I’ll leave the readers with the artists’ own lyrics to set the closing mood:
Minor key set us free
To the sea, meant to be