From his early work as the guitarist in art-rock group Ponytail to his collaborations with artists like Takako Minekawa and his own solo endeavors, Dustin Wong has always been an eager experimenter. His work begins at the margins of pop, electronic, and rock music, and then pushes outward, finding undiscovered worlds that become technicolor wonderlands in his hands. On his new album Perpetual Morphosis, the songwriter has created a breathtaking landscape of bright, awestruck synths, cathartic guitar melodies, and bouncy bass rhythms. These songs sound like those underwater sea creatures who are magically illuminated with hues of neon green, pink, orange, and yellow—at once enchanting and deeply surprising.
To help illuminate how Wong has created such an evocative, one-of-a-kind collection of compositions, we invited him to assemble a playlist of songs that helped inspire Perpetual Morphosis. “I really enjoy making playlists,” he shares, “from my teenage years of making mixtapes and mix CDs to being on the road with the early iPod, queuing the next song, having my thumb on standby to hit the play button (before the playlist option). The thread that ties the tracks together is loose, but I think there’s a cohesion that you can have fun with.”
Check it out below, alongside brief explanations to accompany each choice. Perpetual Morphosis is out now on Hausu Mountain—listen to it here.
Aragon, “Ieji”
This title means “the path home,” and it graciously hits you with the most primal of nostalgia, that place where you once belonged to.
Baffo Banfi, “Astralunato”
This special song sends you into a space both smooth and light, an uncanny valley of reggae and the artificial, yet it touches on the celestial.
Steve Shehan, “Unknown Lights”
The sounds erupt and sounds plume into chords of clouds, an abstract enigmatic location.
Patrick O'Hearn, “Malevolent Landscape”
I found this music through the figure skater Gary Beacom. He choreographed a dance to this track while he wore black tights that covered him from head to toe, shrouding his face, moving more like Bauhaus than a traditional figure skater.
Joe Zawinul, “The Harvest”
An out-of-this-world explosion that grooves and drives in amusement. Such an inspiration.
Billy Cobham, “Zanzibar Breeze”
I found this track while watching an ’80s NBA basketball game between the Lakers and the Celtics. When it went into commercial break this song started playing while it replayed a highlight of Larry Bird landing onto the floor in slow motion of eight frames per second. Staggering and raw in that beautiful ’80s kinda way.
Bob James, “Rain”
Found this one through the YouTube channel KJC Muzique, who uploads a lot of ’80s jazz. For me a lot of it can be a bit much, but sometimes in the middle somewhere there are delights and gems that feel so on. You can feel the calm and enjoyment of experiencing rain.
Uman, “Lalala”
This track really gives the feeling that the Pure Moods commercial gave me as a child, and now fully embraced it makes one feel like you are in a Chagall painting.
Clifford White, “Dandelions”
So blissfully elated that you can deflect any type of negativity. Your spirit animal is an eagle.
Hungry Chuck, “Cruising”
Sometimes you want to get drunk and celebrate being the poetic contradiction of walking between the line of a pathetic loser and becoming your own hero.
David Sanborn, “The Finer Things”
It’s dreamy and materialistic, the glamor of money and the kitsch of it all tastes good and makes you fat. It’s fun, but unhealthy.
Seigen Ono, “All Men Are Heels”
Those footsteps reverberating on a hard surface wish they could step on the faces of all the tyrannical men from all time.
Mishio Ogawa, “Yomise No Otoko”
This makes me feel younger, or in touch with that feeling of wanting to wave your hands in the air while banging your hair. The imagery the lyrics evoke touches the heart in a direct way.
Charles Dumont, “Maria Version 3”
Heaven might sound like this.
Biological Events, “Artificial Pigeon”
Aliens.
