Dust to Go, the newest album from Akono Miles, comes from a hazy, nostalgic place. That’s apparent because it’s stated right there on his Bandcamp page, though it comes through in other places: the grainy, faded cover art and song titles like "Haziness Not Laziness" and "Tomorrow’s High." It all adds up to a conspicuously ambient project meant to engage listeners passively. It’s music for a certain mood.
This marks a bit of a departure for Miles, not just because he’s first and foremost an MC, but because his last two releases (Room Temperature and Halogen, both in 2019) were far more assertive and less cerebral (not to say they’re bereft of ideas, just that they’re a little more of-this-world than those on Dust). Miles took a year off from rapping to immerse himself in production and beat-making and these three EPs are the fruits of that self-education. Halogen gave us instrumental hip hop; Room Temperature "an unexpected exploration of house music through sampled records and synthesizers," and now the unworldly ambiance of Dust to Go.
Let’s talk about that ambiance. While the waters are relatively calm on the surface, there’s a flurry of anxiety underneath these songs. A loop or progression might cruise unopposed for the first half of a song, but before long, these insidious little dissonant elements creep their way in. By the end, you’re left wondering what happened to that placid place where we started. Part of this is achieved through Miles’ sampling of human voices — a Japanese Sony Walkman commercial from 1985, a Whitney Houston jingle for the defunct Steak and Ale — which he transforms into ghostly, distant instruments.
The glitchy "Civil Ghost" highlights Miles’ knack for balancing those disparate elements. It’s soothing, even though it has no right to be. The percussion is jittery and it’s a little tough to latch onto what the chords are doing, but the overall effect, when taken as a whole, is really rewarding, and more importantly, interesting. While Miles focused on channeling different parts of his aesthetic on this one, more experimentation, with cloudier compositions, he says that at the end of the day, "It still has to be entertaining to me." It is for us, too.
However, it’s the album closer "Branches" that sinks its roots in the deepest. Built on a wheezy, sort of asthmatic piano sample, it’s where Miles delivers the clearest, cleanest iteration of the album's guiding idea. Like the other five songs, it embraces tension and can never quite decide if it’s comforting you or pouring poison. But the tension in "Branches" has the highest highs and the lowest lows, the prettiest moments and the most unsettling. The thing sticks with you.
Now that Miles is getting happier with his production chops, his next move is to make a beat tape of hip hop instrumentals, and eventually, a full-length rap album featuring his beats, his production, and his verses. If it’s anything as strange and melancholy and captivating as Dust, we’ll all be in good shape.
Purchase Dust to Go for $7 here.
