The objects don't need us


CD digipack

SR258 /

A distant place, far up north, Canada, Alaska, or even further, far away from here. The earth: somewhere on its way around the sun, but we don't know where we are. We find ourselves in the snow. And the only thing we know is: summer always sees other places first.

Yet somewhere round here somebody is singing, and so do the guitars, while bellish notes are hit on a toy piano. Moving keys and strings while moving his vocals to the limits, always on the edge of whisper: Matthias Grübel. But here, in the very north of music they call him a different name, they whisper when they say it: phon°noir.

A year now, a little more than a year, one year since Phon°noir tore open the autumn skies above him: Putting holes into october skies, as he would say. Now we are about to meet him again. As we raise our antennas towards the sky, into the snowflakes, somebody is singing, singing through the wires, wires that lead all the way to Gullholmen: Matthias.

This time it is october again, and even if the objects don't need us, Matthias needs them, making use of them with even greater passion. This time he fits more instruments, more twists and turns into his tunes, more rhythms and more voices. We find him duetting with Marie-Sophie Kanske on My paperhouse on fire, Anna-Lynne Williams assists in measuring a future we once had, and Calika sends over some droning chords from the British Isles. While somewhere in the distance we hear the sound of a cello, bowing the cello, acoustic and electric: Fried Dähn.

And through all this, it suddenly seems like the snow is slowly melting as if the music came closer and closer... This is the movement of the new Phon°noir record: closer and closer, through the wires, and into the heart. At first we are far from a world we know, but soon we forget about the distance, we can walk from here. And in the end... in the end we can miss the future. Now we are invisible, the only thing that is not is our ears. Invisible with Phon°noir. Invisible at last.


Phon°noir's poignant delivery is the sound of a man losing his individuality within the homogenizing architecture of 21st century life. And yet, the fact that music has been made from the cacophonous scraps of life is a nugget of unquenchable hopefulness that persists in the echo of the work's passage.

Le minimalisme electro allemand irradie les pop-songs patraques de Phon°noir, de chansons folk arrangées à base de synthés ténébreux, de guitares laconiques et de silences appuyés pour ballades crépusculaires...

01 The figurines are moving 4:23
02 A different kind of january 3:46
03 You are the eskimo 2:56
04 Invisible at last 4:13
05 Climbing up that hill 3:13
06 Sing through the wires 3:55
07 My paperhouse on fire 4:21
08 We still miss the future 3:42
09 As seen at the end of the mechanical age 3:52
10 The objects don't need us 3:13
11 Gullholmen 7:09