Review Summary: Let's take a trip together.
Prior to the release of
Phasor, Helado Negro (real name Roberto Carlos Lange) expressed his desire to to look
outward for inspiration rather than inward. Speaking with
Paste last month, he had the following to say:
“It feels like the things that are rewarded the most are what’s the most revealing or the most vulnerable. And it’s unfair because there’s a wider palette of things to embrace as forms of expression. That’s what I wanted to do with this record, was keep it not so heavily based on traumas or personal identities.”
As such,
Phasor takes more inspiration from fiction than personal experiences. More importantly though, the record tends to blur the line between engaging avant-pop and relaxing mood music. Its modest, 35-minute tracklist plays out like a somewhat random grab-bag of various ambiances and vibes – all punctuated with Lange’s relaxing, calming vocal inflections. And, perhaps to both the benefit and detriment of the album, these songs tend to be flighty little pieces that go wherever the hell Lange wants them to. For example, let’s check out the opener “LFO” (no, not the band who made “Summer Girls”). It starts at a pretty agreeable pace with a nice thumping beat and upbeat guitars, but then it just randomly screeches to a halt and gives us an ambient violin passage! That’s the kind of random experimentation I’m talking about, and it’s just a taste of what
Phasor offers.
Sometimes this disjointedness works in favor of the album, as is the case with “LFO”. Sure, the detour is strange, but it’s not
too out-there. Another track that benefits from such adventurousness is “Out There”, whose bassline provides a wonderful anchor during each of its ebbs and flows. Occasionally all the layers of buildup will abruptly cut out, leaving the bass and percussion in their most stark, naked state; that way, the layers can build back up more effectively than ever. And herein lies the best thing about
Phasor: Lange’s ability to build and break down these songs in such compelling ways. Despite mostly being an avant-pop/art pop record, there’s something very
post-rock about its exploration of textures and hypnotic repetitions. The difference, of course, lies in how short and concise most of these songs are. Take “Best For You and Me” for example: in only three minutes, we get a lovely piano-driven piece that slowly develops its musical theme; a few more piano runs here, a few more vocal harmonies there, and then…
…the song ends as soon as it began. As I alluded to earlier, this also tends to be the biggest drawback of
Phasor. The thing is: these ideas and motifs are really
interesting! Lange clearly has a talent for this kind of moody, steady worldbuilding; I just wish he didn’t consign them to such miniscule track lengths. Some songs clearly feel as though they’re designed to be extended a few more minutes, such as the spacy acoustic ballad “Flores” or the dingy electronic highlight “Wish You Could Be Here”. Still, that criticism doesn’t necessarily apply to
every song on
Phasor; just listen to that mysterious, off-kilter closer “Es Una Fantasia”. The way Lange’s delicate vocals meld with the strange acoustic guitar chords, the way the beat keeps dropping out to raise the tension of the song… it’s wonderful stuff, and a perfect way to cap off such a compelling record.
Phasor is by no means a perfect album, and it could really benefit from a bit more focus and a further fleshing-out of its ideas. But if you’re looking for a record that’ll transport you to some captivating soundscapes and locales, this will fit the bill very nicely.