by Craig Howieson

A perception shifting, psych-tinged exploration

‘There was a stage and a PA up in western Massachusetts / The kids came from miles around to get messed up on the music.’

And so opens the Hold Steady’s Chillout Tent – a song about the highs, and, inevitable lows, of youthful abandon and substance abuse, as it accompanies an immersion in music. It seems fitting that the locale for this setting – western Massachusetts – is also home to musician, Stephen Pierce, better known as Gold Dust, whose music – even without the touch of psychoactive substances – contains a healthy dose of psychedelia. His latest record, The Late Great Gold Dust, would be the perfect accompaniment in that tent for those kids riding the comedown, and gathering themselves for the outside world. It may even shift their perspective somewhat. 

Emerging from the sludgy doomscape of opening number Go Gently, Pierce becomes a rider with no fixed destination. His songwriting has an audacious fluidity and, although you can hear his guiding hand in some of the compositions, on others, it sounds as if he is being dragged by a muse to wherever the song needs to go. The Byrds, The Band, Elliot Smith and even Kurt Vile all echo through Pierce’s sound, and while he may take a stroll around Laurel Canyon, he is subversive enough to remain an outcast there. 

On the rust-flecked, weary Americana of Absolutely Nowhere, Pierce sings ‘There’s nowhere I’d rather be / Than nowhere at all.’ And throughout The Late Great Gold Dust, there are plenty of moments of trippy serenity that suspend reality, and uproot the listener from their lives for some much needed outside perspective. Pierce’s lyrics well express the everyday burden of existence, something that is compounded by our own psyche and the palpable collapse of a world that once seemed more dependable. But musically he finds many ways in which to balance this weight such as the optimistic surf rock of Catalpa Bloom, and the baggy Manchester vibe that also squeezes through the cracks. 

Countless listens will still leave you pulling at the threads of The Late Great Gold Dust’s crocheted elegance. Accompanying Pierce on his directionless canter will mess you up, and put you back together anew: ready to forge on with a slightly altered outlook.