Lusterlit, List of Equipment. E.P. Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10

Inspiration comes from anywhere, from the soul of ant creating a structure of tunnels so elaborate that it motivates the prisoner of war to dig through mounds of dirt and dust to escape his fate, through to the long worked on novel, a dedicated life’s work and shivered over as the worry of expectation over its prospects, and finding solace in the arms of a film maker wishing to take it on as his next blockbuster.

Inspiration is arousal, the brain wishing to be moved and have a focus, to emulate and pay homage to another’s work, another’s passion. For Brooklyn’s Lusterlit, inspiration is all around them, not are they part of Bushwick Book Club, they have at their disposal all that Brooklyn and the greater New York area can throw at them. If ever there was a city on Earth that can inspire the humblest of people to become greater than they ever imagined, that they can be seen as the polar opposite of what they were seen as a child, then New York City’s five boroughs, Brooklyn, Queens, Manhattan, Staten Island and The Bronx are the place to change, to grow and be inspired within.

Lusterlit’s List of Equipment E.P. takes inspiration very seriously, the rousing of what they read, what they absorb from books and life is instigated as music, art complementing art, life encouraging discussion and lively conversation. It is the list of the book reader who takes it to the next level, not content to read a book, perhaps have meaningful debate about the hidden troupes of the text, but to emulate it, to see a line, read a passage and be so overcome by it that it forms the basis of connection.

The connection, what inspires Lusterlit goes down as the basis for a song, where that connection then sparks is up to the listener, the neurons that flow from one person to the next, alive and well, positive, ensnaring the mind to seek further into the mind of the writer, the architect of the novel and it is the connection that finally once listened to that you have to admit is brilliantly observed.

In Charlie Nieland’s and Susan Hwang’s songs Ceremony, List of Equipment, the fantastic Day of the Triffids, Flight and Genius of Love, what the listener is exposed to is the form of the book, held with eager anticipation, and moulded into something else, just as powerful, just as willingly held up to the world and one of the final nails of truth of life, that we all require inspiration from the author to see beyond the dust cover that blocks our way.

Ian D. Hall