Asher Dust
Old FIre Station
Oxford
 

Asher Dust has been a mainstay of the Oxford music scene for something like two decades now, both in bands such as Nautica and Big Speakers, and as an artist in his own right.

His solo material has always been highly eclectic, held together by his deeply soulful and emotive — and instantly recognisable — voice. Silky-smooth but with a delicious gravelly edge, it is a voice which works equally over electro, ragga, hiphop, R ’n’ B and drum and bass, while his lyricism brings a darker edge to these sounds, emphasising human frailty far more than self-aggrandisement.  

Dust gigs have always been a deeply intimate affair, and over the years, he has become a master at laying bare his inner soul.

As an audience member, you feel yourself bearing witness to the painful yet beautiful process of a man no longer willing to pretend that he is not broken and suffering picking up the pieces and reconnecting with himself.

Much of tonight’s material is about losing faith — in God, in religion, and even in humanity — and yet still finding that all is not lost. “The sun still shines whilst the blood’s on the ground,” as he puts it, while elsewhere finding in “the thrill of a child’s smile” the strength to leave the past behind.

Perhaps a little too honest for the mainstream record labels, there is a deep need for this kind of honest artistic emotional expression.

After all, as he tells us in his parting shot, “all of us are damaged goods sometimes.”

With young people all too often left adrift in their mental health crises, it is necessary to develop a culture that is able to reflect and recognise these states, to reassure sufferers that they are not alone — and to show them that there is a way through which, although painful, can also be beautiful.

And Dust, with, as he puts it, his “bruise full of wisdom” is at the cutting edge of such a culture.