Review by Jordan Cronk: The title Black Noise would seem to insinuate quite a bit about a minimal techno album. For example, one might expect something rather harsh, perhaps even a little grating, or maybe just something sonically overwhelming. If you stop and think about the actual implications of such a term, however, you’ll probably come to recognize just the opposite. If, in essence, white noise disorients through sheer volume and irreverent tonality, then black noise must by definition carry similarly dense sonic characteristics, only applied with much gentler, more humane strokes. As you can probably ascertain, realizing such a distinctive sound could prove rather difficult. Enter German producer Henrik Weber, aka Pantha du Prince, and his enveloping deployment of digital & analogue harmonics. After a three year absence in the wake of 2007's excellent This Bliss, Black Noise arrives on Rough Trade at a time when electronic music and its variants are sitting at perhaps their most visible perch in over a decade. Therefore, if anyone outside of maybe Burial was poised to make a record with such a vividly outlined aesthetic conceit, it would have to be Weber, who has spent the better part of the last half decade reimagining the range and scope of the typically stringent contours of minimal techno.

I’m not going to spend a whole lot of time comparing the two records, but it should be noted that Black Noise is a few beats off the pace of This Bliss, which continues to solidify its status as a watershed of the genre with every passing imitation. To consider it metaphorically, This Bliss’ marble-house constructions fully absorbed any and all incoming light, while Black Noise more patiently refracts surrounding atmosphere and texture, rendering the experience rather akin to navigating the pastoral landscapes glossed across its artwork. It’s a different approach with different results, and while this new album doesn’t have a standout along the lines of “Saturn Strobe,” its pervading sense of Zen calm is to be admired even as Weber wanders blurry-eyed amidst the scenery. If nothing else, then, Black Noise should prove to be one of the year’s most elegantly transporting electronic albums.

As such, Black Noise feels a few degrees more welcoming than anything yet released under the Pantha du Prince moniker, and Weber wastes no time laying down the welcome mat. Opener “Lay in a Shimmer” perfectly approximates its title with loose-limbed percussion lying comfortably in a pocket of hypnotic synth variances. Early album highlight “Abglanz” follows, extending the dense yet richly detailed tapestry of overlapping and mirrored motifs which Weber establishes early in each track, only to splay the innards around to the farthest reaches of the piece. As measured and inviting as these opening minutes are, however, Black Noise reaches its most refined and harmonious level with its closing trifecta, which, ironically, has the most in common with This Bliss and the more sonically head-turning moments of the Pantha catalogue. “Welt Am Draht” shivers to life atop a backdrop of disembodied vocals and a repeating bell-like tone, structurally linking it with the synthetic string-abated “Saturn Strobe”, while closer “Es Schneit” produces a thick low-end drone with which Weber contrasts a ricocheting display of short, indirect tones.

Linking these two standouts is “Im Bann,” a rudderless ambient wash of synth and static, with ghostly overtones sent channel-panning from the preceding track. It bears little in common with Weber’s beat oriented productions, and in fact most closely resembles the work of Panda Bear circa Person Pitch. Perhaps it should come as no surprise then, seeing as how Noah Lennox name-dropped Pantha in Person Pitch’s liner notes—not to mention the fact that minimal techno is as vital a component as Brian Wilson’s harmonic pop in the Panda Bear sound—that Weber would enlist Animal Collective’s most vocally gifted member to add his unique touch to the first-ever guest assisted Pantha du Prince track. The result, a cyclical 8-minute trance-like exercise entitled “Stick to My Side,” may not eclipse what many had envisioned such a interesting pairing potentially producing, but Lennox’s detached, affectless accompaniment ends up serving this looped-based composition in a way that narrowly subverts expectations while re-contextualizing a familiar voice.

Elsewhere, the anonymous incantations of a track like “Behind the Stars” may realize this new technique in a more successful manner, though Weber’s democratic approach to the human voice renders all supplemental modes rather uniform. For the majority of Black Noise, however, Weber stays satisfyingly within his wheelhouse, producing seductively addictive variations on the exacting ideals of modern minimalism. Its territory that Weber continues to traverse with steadfast poise and it’s produced yet another engaging and highly rewarding entry in an ever-evolving catalogue. 

Last Word: The third album from ever-evolving minimal techno titan Henrik Weber basks in the glow of a newly tranquil sonic landscape, while guest vocalists attempt to further color the contours of the well-defined and oft-imitated Pantha du Prince aesthetic.

Review By:
Jordan Cronk

IN REVIEW ONLINE