Quinton Barnes establishes that he is a force to be reckoned with on his new album, Black Noise. This is the sixth album from the Montreal-based solo artist, who has already accumulated somewhat of a massive discography in just five years’ time. The album was released earlier this month, on Barnes’ 28th birthday. Black Noise contains seven tracks that teeter between experimental, jazz, punk, and funk; it is an exciting collection that stays interesting and surprisingly cohesive, despite its genre-hopping nature. Each track unfolds like a sonic experiment, pushing boundaries while still maintaining a raw emotional core.
The title track “Black Noise” starts the album with atmospheric impulses, while seeping creaking revelations evolve to a stream-of-consciousness spoken vocal that slowly succumbs to the noise, eventually finding a rhythm to groove to. Piping synthesizers and bright keys in “What Would Eastman Do?” descend to a chaotic, yet controlled, acid-funk-meets-improvisational-jazz-breakdown. Coupled with the repeated mantra of “I did the wrong thing, I fucked it up,” we’re painted an almost real-time exemplification of the internal conflicts bouncing around inside Barnes. This transitions to spoken word in “Art of Survival” as the artist traces more thoughts over a droning backdrop.
“Black Orpheus” splits the album’s front and back sides, as a 9-minute epic track that traipses through spoken word, urgent saxophones, jazzy bass lines, and experimental noise touches. The next track “Sober For The Weekend” might be considered more “fun” and energetic than songs covered in the first half of the album. The repeated line “bitch I’m sober for the weekend” bounces over a bed of saxophones that eventually fade out to silence. This appropriately leads into “Quiet Noise,” a song that is generally more subdued and gentle, signaling an internal peace and acceptance. “Movement 7” closes out the album as the seventh track, with vocals that are emotional and lyrics that reference a distinction between an old self and a new self.
Barnes doesn’t just blur lines – he demolishes them, crafting a piece of work that’s as bold as it is personal. Black Noise isn’t just an album; it’s a declaration. There’s a transparency to the music that feels almost confessional. It ultimately challenges the listener to feel, confront, and understand the noise within themselves.
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