Dreamcrusher (aka Drencrome/Luwayne Glass) is a young and prolific electronic noise artist hailing from Wichita, Kansas but now officially relocated to, and operating out of, Brooklyn, New York. Donât let the ânoiseâ tag intimidate you (as it reasonably should). âNoiseâ could mean a lot of things, from experimental rock music to avant-garde tone-painting and formless, ear-splitting chaos. In the case of Dreamcrusher, who labels their sound as âNihilist Queer Revolt Musikâ, the noise comes in the form of monstrously compressed samples and tones unleashed in groovy riffs and loops over amp-crushing drum beats, a chimeric blend of EDM, house, raw noise, and grimey hardcore aesthetics.
Glass, 26, identifies as queer and gender non-binary, and is also a straight edge-vegan, though these points donât come up often in the sparse lyrics, which are primarily delivered through heavily distorted shouts. The musicâs content isnât as patently political as itâs source and context, with Glass, a queer person of color playing deeply rhythmic licks in a scene infected by pseudo-fascist extremity and snobbish egos. Dreamcrusher began as a MySpace project for the small-town queercore kid influenced by Autechere, HEALTH, and early Crystal Castles. In the mid-to-late 2000s, Glass began sporadically releasing tracks and through word of mouth and an effective internet presence, became slowly recognized among noise circles.
After some successful crowdfunding and networking, Dreamcrusher was able to be taken on the road for a northeastern tour which turned into a permanent stay in Brooklyn. In the time since the move, Dreamcrusher produced a few notable EPs in the past year and a half, Incinerator, Haine and Katatonia, most released after a one-take performance with little-to-no post-production touch-ups. With each release, the tracks seem to become more âdeconstructedâ, the noise gets harsher, more sinister and heavier, a trend that continues as Glass unleashes darker and dirtier tones on their latest EP, Hackers All Of Them Hackers, released through Fire Talk Records on October 30th.
Noise often feels like itâs âpointedâ at the audience like a weapon, which is usually intentional on the artistsâ part, and Dreamcrusher achieves that on this album without losing itâs appeal. Rather than oppress the listener, the noise empowers them, enticing more aggressive dancing, headbanging, and even outright moshing (but like, sexy moshing). There is a similar appeal I get out of listening to a clever sample-flip on a hip hop beat in the way that I appreciate the raw, digital sludge that Dreamcrusher manages to warp into crude and savage dance songs that make the listener want to stomp their feet through the floorboards.
âFear (And No Feeling)â begins the EP with hair-raising harsh noise that begins to cycle, sounding like a field-recording of a subway train trudging through a tunnel at a mechanical pace before a lung-collapsing beat drop instantly contextualizes the chaos, funneling it all into the dance floor. The following track âAdoreâ reminds me of the first time I ever heard Death Grips and actually understood what I was hearing. Glass has a grand talent for ordering the barbaric noise before unleashing it upon the listener, and it continues to drive me to push the limits on my ear drumsâ endurance with each repeat.
Itâs difficult to find artists who are able to push extreme experimental and emotional boundaries without losing the site of what makes music an enjoyable, and for lack of a less-honest word, âfunâ experience, and luckily, Dreamcrusher belongs firmly in that category, regardless of genre or accessibility.