The Late, Great Gold Dust
Stephen Pierce, aka Gold Dust, released an incredible record late last year and wasted no time announcing a follow up, titled The Late Great Gold Dust, a nod to Townes Van Zandt whom the record emulates only lyrically. Stephen’s years playing in hardcore and shoegaze bands inform his gauzy sonic weavings, but with much more subtlety and power. The first single, “Proof of Life,” sounds like Stone Roses meets J. Mascis (although the incredible guitar line is Pierce’s own – Mascis doesn’t appear until later on the album [!!!]). He’s releasing a lathe cut of this single with a cover of Karen Dalton’s classic “Something On Your Mind” on the reverse side. The Late Great Gold Dust is out 11/4 on Centripetal Force Records.
I’ve been asked to write about something that exists beyond language.
Sometimes songs come easy, but putting words to what’s behind them ends up being somewhat of a challenge for me. They can seem like such visceral and corporeally intuitive reactions to feelings that can’t be easily summed up or untangled in a few simple paragraphs. Maybe that’s a good thing: there’s a kind of universality in most of my favorite songs, something that I can grab onto and make into my own. Something that lends itself to a personal resonance. At the end of the day, I want you to take whatever you can from this song: Your life is different from mine, no doubt, and I’d not want your experience to be tied to something I hold inside of me. But I think ultimately, it’s dealing in some pretty shared feelings.
To me, I suppose it’s about those things that we don’t say, the ways we don’t act, and the remaining truths that even in isolation can offer some kind of connection. It’s been a really weird time these last few years, and it’s not getting any less weird. At least for me, anyway. In any case, this one may be the lightest and most hopeful song on a pretty heavy record, and maybe that in itself is something to hold onto.
I was watching some live footage of Pentangle from 1972, from a live TV broadcast. When they played the trad. Scottish tune “Willy o’Winsbury,” Bert Jansch put down his guitar and picked up a dulcimer. The impact that his chiming drone made when he joined the rest of the band was something that moved me to do a quick search and order a modestly-priced dulcimer of my own. I did some reading about the tuning and the generalities about how they’re played and—while waiting for it to show up in the mail—figured I’d write a song for it. That’s this: Proof of Life. While I’ve still not written a song ON dulcimer, I’m happy to have written one FOR dulcimer: It encouraged me to approach the writing process a little differently than I otherwise would’ve. I’m grateful for that.
And I’m grateful to you for giving this song a listen. I hope you find something in there that makes sense to you.
And on his Karen Dalton cover:
I don’t think there’s much left to be said about this song, but it’s an absolute gem and a complete desert island track for me. The galaxy that unfolds when the chiming guitar joins the bass chords of the intro I don’t think will ever fail to give me goosebumps. It’s been really cool over the course of the last few years to see some wider recognition for Karen Dalton, who I first checked out years back based on my friend (and the person who mixed and mastered both GD LPs) Justin’s recommendation – I still need to see that documentary.
When I was recording this, I was in a particularly bad headspace, just kind of at some kinda bottom. Performing the song – particularly the vocals and guitar solo – was something that ended up being a release for that. Kind of therapeutic, in a way, and I think you can hear it in the same way that you can hear a genuine longing and pain in Karen’s original performance. I think my guitar solo particularly ended up feeling more mournful than my usual, and listening back to it now for better or for worse brings me right back to sitting in that spare room on a small wooden table I was using as a stool, headphones on, wishing I could find a way to some kind of oblivion via guitar.
Since this is such a great song, it lends itself to interpretation, and I feel like this is a great opportunity to call out two versions of this that I’ve found to be particularly inspiring in the last short bit: Eli Winter recorded a riveting instrumental take on it and Erin Rae’s version absolutely floored me when I first hit play. I hope they don’t mind that I’m joining their company in putting out an interpretation of my own!
Stephen Pierce
Upcoming Full Band Performances:
9/23/2022 Easthampton, MA w/Sunwatchers, Smoke Bellow @ Daily Operation
10/22/2022 Easthampton, MA w/Wild Pink @ TBA
