Dustin Wong is simply one of the most fascinating musicians on this beautiful and tragic planet. A brief walk through his career for the uninitiated: He’s played guitar for bands like Ponytail and Ecstatic Sunshine, has dropped a ton of solo music with Thrill Jockey (though his new record Gloria is out via Hausu Mountain), and has shared equally compelling collaborative albums with Takako Minekawa, Gregory Uhlmann, Patrick Shiroishi, and others.
Considering my love of Dustin’s work, it comes with great deliberation that I declare Gloria quite possibly my favorite among his records, though it’s certainly his most emotionally affecting. The album emerged from Wong’s specific memories of moments he shared with his grandmother and her relation to his understanding of family history. It’s both personal and communal, a reflection on their relationship and how memory shapes the people we love most. Gloria Violet Lee Wong passed away in January 2024, just shy of her 96th birthday. The instrumental album reconstructs a road trip Dustin took with Gloria down the West Coast in 2023, beginning in Washington and heading down to California.
We had Dustin walk us through that experience in relation to the album. Check out his track-by-track breakdown of Gloria below.
1. “Morning Roses”
My grandmother Gloria started our road trip from Washington State. She was attending a prayer convention called Order of Saint Luke at the time, a place that focuses on healing prayers. We got the rental car and as we were approaching the gate to exit, the attendant asked for my license and paperwork. She seemed ornery and tired of her job. The air was slightly heavy and astringent as she bluntly interacted with us. My grandmother popped her head toward my window and she said, “Did you know that you are so kind?” And reiterated, “You are so kind, did you know that?” The stiffness in the attendant’s face melted away and she smiled at us. We started driving and she expressed her desire to see the rose garden in Portland, our first stop. We walked around, and the flowers still had some droplets of dew on the petals. She would take in each flower considerately, gratefully.
2. “Undulating Coast”
We were on our way to Fort Bragg, California, where her sister Aunt Cordelia’s (or Aunty Corky) ashes are located. Driving on the Pacific Coast, the curves and the narrow roads along the water. The sun, the ocean, the cliffs; we would talk, laugh, and sing “You Are My Sunshine.” Gliding on the undulation we could see our destination from a long distance. The chops of the water, the curves, rhythmic and entrancing.
3. “Memories of Cordelia”
Aunt Cordelia had a shop when she lived in Fort Bragg where she would sell stringed instruments and offered music lessons. Aunty Corky was the one that taught me how to play “Chopsticks” and Hoagy Carmichael’s “Heart and Soul.” She was also part of the local orchestra. Grandma Gloria and I met with Aunt Cordelia’s friends at a cafe. They were having a prayer meeting and they let us sit in. A lady named Barbara exclaimed, “Christians these days are not following Jesus. They are walking in front of Him.” We walked to the local butcher. She asked if the owner was here, and from the back with some confusion a hefty middle-aged man came out. She asked if he knew Aunt Cordelia, and his demeanor changed to a softer one, and he reminisced how much Aunt Cordelia was loved. We went around different storefronts asking if people remember. Some did, some didn’t.
4. “Glass Beach”
Aunt Cordelia’s ashes were scattered at MacKerricher State Park. The wind was strong, but the temperature was pleasant and the sun was bright. Grandma Gloria took in everything quietly. We both looked out into the ocean in silence. We drove to Glass Beach, which was one beach down the state park. They used to throw away glass bottles and trash there, and now the glass has been sanded down to tiny pebbles. Colorful, soft, matte, and sprinkled with a grain of sand. I collected some as a gift for my partner Jessica. I mentioned this to one of Cordelia’s friends, Kathy, and she objected: “It will not be Glass Beach if there is no more glass!” Barbara also reminisced how she would go there at night with her husband to listen to the clinking of the glass hitting each other in the waves. It was romantic, she said.
5. “Seeing Aline for the Last Time”
Aline was a very close friend of Grandma Gloria’s. They were classmates in high school and schoolmates at Smith College. While we were driving through Mountain View, my grandmother expressed that she got a text from Aline’s nurse. She didn’t know how they got her number, but she said she needed to see Aline immediately. We drove to her house. My grandmother recounted the memories of Aline: how she was smart, assertive, and friendly. Anecdotes of Aline needing to fight to protect her property, to prevent it from being taken away, hiring engineers, etc., and studying law to maintain her livelihood. She was diagnosed with dementia. When we got there she was sitting in a wheelchair. Her nurse greeted us and we sat. My grandmother and Aline looked at each other. Aline couldn’t speak, yet she started playing footsie with grandma Gloria. They smiled at each other. Aline smiled at me, too. Two weeks after our road trip, Grandma Gloria called me and notified me that Aline had passed away.
6. “Gloria and Backman on the Phone”
“His gentleness,” she said when I asked what her favorite part of grandpa was. My grandfather Backman was attending Johns Hopkins studying engineering, and he also worked at a dry cleaners. My grandmother was a social worker and needed to find an apartment there in Baltimore. Backman helped and they found one quite quickly, and he remarked something along the lines of, “I wish it took longer to find.” They were both engaged to someone at the time, and they decided on a phone call to break that engagement in order to start this relationship.
7. “Malcolm, Carey, Darrell, Andrea, Janice”
Malcolm is my dad, and the photo used for this tape is actually a photo of my dad, newly born, and grandma Gloria holding him up. Uncle Carey, Uncle Darrell, we call Aunt Andrea “Aunty Chip,” and Aunt Jan. Gloria and Backman had five kids and got a house in Wayland, Massachusetts. I’ve stayed there a few summers. I remember the smell of the trees and the oily garage. My aunts and uncles, they were all nice to me.
8. “Swimmers with the Pink Urn”
My Father crafted an urn with pink glass. Grandma Gloria’s ashes were put in. She was part of the Polar Bear Club. She would wake up early, swim with her group, and pray. After her memorial, all the members of that Polar Bear Club came. My dad, my aunts, and uncles held the urn together, swam to the ocean, and dropped it down. I remember the water reflecting light as the swimmers became silhouettes.
9. “Bear Hotel, Grants Pass”
This was a light stop we made with grandma: a novelty tourist attraction in Grants Pass, Oregon. Bear sculptures everywhere, dioramas. It was a big space, with installations that depicted forests, tundras, Christmas, and patriotic imagery. Kitsch, maybe, but there was something wholesome and endearing about it.
10. “Archangel Michael and the Pacific”
It was a very angel-filled trip. We visited the St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church, a church filled with beautiful stained glass windows of angels. When we had breakfast at a diner and asked the waiter his name, his name was Angel. On our way out of Fort Bragg, we passed by the craft store Michael’s, and we entered the highway and a car cut in front of me. I swerved a tiny bit and was about to say some words but I kept it in and was able to control the car. “Oh, Archangel Michael,” she said.
11. “Waves of Mackerricher”
Just as the title states, expressing the turbulent waters of the Pacific.
12 – 13. “Ascension” / “Angels We Have Heard on High” / “Angels We Have Heard on High (Second Propulsion)”
These last three tracks are like a prayer. I don’t know where we go after we die, but I hope she’s where she wants to be. I remember my Japanese grandmother telling me the chants of the Buddhist monks when you die act like propulsion, taking your spirit to where it needs to go, like a rocket. These three tracks are a prayer in intention to visualize my grandmother being at a place she wants to be. This road trip has been a parallel of memories/melodies amongst the things mentioned. We saw her brother and his wife, visiting the member of a choir she was a leader of when she lived at the San Francisco Chinatown. Her wanting to stay at the motel where we celebrated her 90th birthday. The slumber parties we had at the motels where we’d giggle as we talked to each other. Most importantly, she always reminded you of the kindness that’s inherent in all of us. She was the best person, and the world doesn’t know what they missed. I hope we can all be blessed by the Glorias of this world. I know they’re out there.
