textura

Papir: 7
Stickman Records

Over six full-length albums, Papir built a reputation for blistering, guitar-driven throwdowns—which makes the Copenhagen-based trio's move into atmospheric soundscaping on its seventh rather startling. Not objectionable, however, but simply surprising. Guitarist Nicklas Sørensen, bassist Christian Becher Clausen, and drummer Christoffer Brøchmann Christensen bring as much dedication and craft to sculpting the four immersive pieces on 7 as they have to anything before it. Issued on CD and LP formats, the recording backs the A-side's twenty-minute travelogue with three shorter pieces. The titling might be prosaic—“7.1” for the opener and “7.2,” “7.3”, and “7.4” for the others—but the performances are hardly bereft of personality and imagination.

During its opening moments, the three-part “7.1” sets the stage for what one expects will grow into a trademark Papir meltdown. Sørensen doles out psychedelia-tinged licks animated by his partners' robust support, yet while the playing does slowly build in intensity it ends up cresting into a dreamlike glide as opposed to explosive wail. With Christensen settling into a “Tom Sawyer”-like groove, the guitarist opts for textural washes and tasteful restraint, with the music assuming the form of an extended ambient-styled excursion. Yes, there are echoes of krautrock, but Papir's more interested in painterly swirl than fire. The central part takes that impulse to the extreme for a serene, propulsion-free episode before momentum gently reasserts itself in the form of drowsy drift for the graceful final leg.

“7.2” returns the listener to a waking state with a swaying pulse and layers of guitar atmospherics. Though animation and groove are more pronounced than in the closing parts of the opening piece, the material nevertheless retains its blissed-out character when the trio keeps the focus intently on texture. In the penultimate setting, a full-on ambient soundscape, Sørensen drapes plangent phrases across a softly shimmering backdrop, its hypnotic pull akin to that effected by the opening track's second half. Propulsion reemerges for “7.4” but, again, gently, with the group choosing to exit the release in a contemplative as opposed to thunderous mode. An album to get lost in, swoon to, and be transported by, 7 feels right for such stressed-out times.

February 2022


	Papir: 7 Stickman Records Over six full-length albums, Papir built a reputation for blistering, guitar-driven throwdowns—which makes the Copenhagen-based trio's move into atmospheric soundscaping on its seventh rather startling. Not objectionable, however, but simply surprising. Guitarist Nicklas Sørensen, bassist Christian Becher Clausen, and drummer Christoffer Brøchmann Christensen bring as much dedication and craft to sculpting the four immersive pieces on 7 as they have to anything before it. Issued on CD and LP formats, the recording backs the A-side's twenty-minute travelogue with three shorter pieces. The titling might be prosaic—“7.1” for the opener and “7.2,” “7.3”, and “7.4” for the others—but the performances are hardly bereft of personality and imagination. During its opening moments, the three-part “7.1” sets the stage for what one expects will grow into a trademark Papir meltdown. Sørensen doles out psychedelia-tinged licks animated by his partners' robust support, yet while the playing does slowly build in intensity it ends up cresting into a dreamlike glide as opposed to explosive wail. With Christensen settling into a “Tom Sawyer”-like groove, the guitarist opts for textural washes and tasteful restraint, with the music assuming the form of an extended ambient-styled excursion. Yes, there are echoes of krautrock, but Papir's more interested in painterly swirl than fire. The central part takes that impulse to the extreme for a serene, propulsion-free episode before momentum gently reasserts itself in the form of drowsy drift for the graceful final leg. “7.2” returns the listener to a waking state with a swaying pulse and layers of guitar atmospherics. Though animation and groove are more pronounced than in the closing parts of the opening piece, the material nevertheless retains its blissed-out character when the trio keeps the focus intently on texture. In the penultimate setting, a full-on ambient soundscape, Sørensen drapes plangent phrases across a softly shimmering backdrop, its hypnotic pull akin to that effected by the opening track's second half. Propulsion reemerges for “7.4” but, again, gently, with the group choosing to exit the release in a contemplative as opposed to thunderous mode. An album to get lost in, swoon to, and be transported by, 7 feels right for such stressed-out times. February 2022