It would be no lie to suggest that Nicolas Jaar’s debut album, Space Is Only Noise, is one of the most anticipated electronic albums of 2011. And with good reason; through a variety of celebrated releases on Wolf + Lamb and Clown & Sunset, Jaar has developed a sound and style that’s unlike anything we’ve heard before.
Regular Jaar listeners will have come accustomed to his distinctive musical voice; those heart-aching piano figures, intensely beautiful vocal samples and hypnotic percussion patterns formed from a heady mix of found sounds, white noise and vintage vinyl crackle. It’s a style that rewards repeat listens and lends itself to the album format far more than the humble 12” single.
It’s perhaps fitting, then, that Space Is Only A Noise is a true album – a 46-minute journey that’s worth far more than the sum of its parts. If there is a concept – and it’s a loose one, at that – it would be blues. Through his use of off-kilter library samples, barely audible jazz singers, his own pain-drenched vocals and slow, considered piano motifs, Jaar explores a very 21st century take on the blues. His fusion of the traditional, unusual and the ethereal is, at times, stunning – far-sighted downtempo music for a generation reared not on cheeky 90s ambient house but dub techno epics and Matthew Herbert albums.
At its most basic, Space Is Only A Noise is an utterly mesmerizing audio soup – a kind of dimly-lit late night trip into the heart of the American deep south with little more than a vintage transistor radio for company. As debuts go, it’s breathtaking.
Matt Anniss
