A muffled cry into the technological darkness, Contemporary Movement slid
into the world
right as the MP3 was seeping out of college dorms. A 39-minute drift into the
void,
drenched in Cold War-era reverb and then submerged in four track hiss for good
measure.
Duster constructed a Brutalist masterpiece on the outskirts of a suburban mall,
as if to
say, “We were here.”