Pantha Du Prince
Black Noise

Hendrick Weber, known as Pantha du Prince, I imagine wasn't getting much attention before the release of this "Black Noise", an album universally acclaimed by specialized and non-specialized press alike. Among those who had never heard of him, I was one. I know well that you should never take what the magazines say as gospel, but when you see names like Pitchfork, The Guardian, Drowned in Sound, and even Ondarock all bowing in thanks to this new hero of minimalist German electronic music, a little interest is bound to arise. Then, heck, even Panda Bear sings on a track: I just have to listen to it.

So, I approach this "Black Noise" without really understanding what the heck it is. I play it, and after an hour and 10 minutes, it's all over. I walk away from this "Black Noise" without really understanding what the heck it is.

I try again, and this time I pay a bit more attention. Let's see: tubular bells, chimes, small bells, gentle metal collisions, sea breezes, light rustlings, evanescences, synthetic pollens that come and go. There you go, it's ambient. But no, no, no, it's not really ambient. There are these regular background pulsations, these persistent wooden "handclapping", these slippery steel drums that constantly demand attention, insist on attention. It's not quite an album you put on, ignore, and it does its "decorative" work.

Listening to this album, aided by the evocative and beautiful cover, it almost feels natural to imagine being a swallow flying over vast open spaces, flowered fields, fjords, foamy seas, storms in the desert. It's cold, then it's hot, then here comes the cold again. It's certainly not the first album capable of evoking this type of emotion. I think for instance of () by Sigur Rós, with its volcanoes, forests, shifting tectonic plates. Although the substantial difference is that while in the Icelandic group's album there are emotional peaks galore, here a certain stability is preferred: all tracks, in fact, do not reach climactic moments, they don't have dizzying crescendos (although quite long, with an average of 7 minutes per track), they are intense from beginning to end, but always at the same level of intensity. 11 tracks equally brilliant and fresh, to the point that none stands out particularly.

All things considered, "Black Noise" is a beautiful and technically perfect album. Having said that, I really don't know what rating to give it. I don't even know what I truly think of this album. They are nice pieces, of course: delicate, seductive, slippery, sparkling. They sonically depict the most splendid and clear dawn you've ever seen. A dawn in the North Pole. However, I fully realize that all this beauty and perfection, while some might love it to death, could really be crap for someone else. I think it's one of those albums that either makes you fall in love at first listen or there's really nothing to do, and therefore it's difficult to find an objective judgment, a point of convergence. Nonetheless, it would be ungrateful on my part not to say that I've discovered an excellent sound craftsman who should be watched in the future (along with other much more renowned ones like Four Tet, Ellen Allien, Eluvium, Basinski, etc.)

In conclusion, an album that truly deserves a listen. Maybe it's the album of your life, maybe it's just nothing, but if you don't try, you'll never know.