Curious choices, those of Dictaphone. Draw one tracklistchoosing what to insert is a treacherous task, and the plan on which the German duo has built their latest effort is unclear. Imagine recording a dark jazz album, one of those that could flow as the soundtrack to a silent film, and then, in the first half of the work, inserting spoken word intrusive (“Illustration”) and electroacoustic buzzes: that's what happens in here. From this perspective, the title “Unstable” seems more than appropriate. But what emerges is not just a sign of general restlessness noirbut rather a restlessness that borders on disorientation, with choices that, more than daring, are sometimes unfortunate (“La Visite”).
Let's skip the initial section and focus for a moment on who they are. Active since 1998, Oliver Doerell and Roger Döring have gone through a career made of chiaroscuro, with the undisputed summit represented by the EP “Nacht” of 2004, a short twenty-minute compendium with a highly visceral trait: hands down, one of the most fascinating forays of the decade zero. It seems, however, that that dark and essential tension has been partly lost, perhaps a sign of changing times.
The dark recipe book draws inspiration from a smoky, metropolitan thriller aesthetic. Saxophone and clarinet, played by Döring, wrap themselves like thick smoke over Doerell's work, which intertwines synthetic percussion, dark bass and concrete music, from radio interference to the insistent buzz of mosquitoes (“Etterbeek”).
Ironically, it is in the most minimalist moments that the project finds consistency, when the melodic (“122”) and above all atmospheric component (“La Fin”), imbued with disturbances and eerie shadows, finally manages to breathe.
Dictaphone's path remains a mixed bag, and this album is no exception. One wonders if eleven tracks were necessary, leaving for posterity the bitter aftertaste of a work that, in a more contained form, would probably have had more strength.
27/10/2025
Antonio Santini for SANREMO.FM
