Album Review: Painting by Deniro – A Neon-Splashed Sonic Journey
Let’s cut to the chase: Deniro’s 2019 album Painting isn’t just music; it’s like someone handed you a paintbrush dipped in neon and said, “Go wild.” This Dutch wonderkid, backed by Tape Records Amsterdam, straddles genres like Dance, Electronic, and Pop/Rock with the kind of swagger that makes you want to both rave and chill simultaneously. With styles dipping into Techno and Ambient, this record feels like an after-hours club where everyone forgot their shoes but no one cares.
Now, let’s zoom in on two tracks because, honestly, who has time for all four? First up is “Painting 2”—the track that slaps harder than your morning alarm clock (but way more pleasant). It starts off with this hypnotic beat that worms its way into your brain faster than you can say “Dutch techno.” The synths are lush, almost dreamlike, but there’s also this gritty undercurrent that keeps things from getting too floaty. You know those moments when you’re vibing so hard you forget what day it is? Yeah, that’s Painting 2.
Then we’ve got “Painting 4,” which flips the script entirely. If Painting 2 is the life of the party, Painting 4 is the mysterious stranger lurking in the corner wearing sunglasses indoors. It’s moody, brooding, and dripping with atmosphere. The bassline rumbles like distant thunder while shimmering pads swirl around like cigarette smoke in low light. I mean, seriously, listening to this feels like stepping into some cyberpunk thriller where nothing makes sense but everything feels right. Bonus points for making me question my own existence halfway through.
Deniro pulls off something rare here—he crafts an album that’s equal parts dancefloor fuel and introspective headspace. And yeah, sure, maybe naming all the tracks “Painting [insert number]” was lazy—or genius? Either way, it works. Like, how many albums make you feel like you’re painting your soul onto canvas without even trying?
Here’s the kicker though: as much as Painting nails its vibe, it leaves you craving more chaos. Just one chaotic banger could’ve tipped this thing over into legendary territory. But hey, maybe that’s the point—it’s not supposed to be perfect. Maybe it’s just… art.
Final thought: If this album were a person, it’d be the cool roommate who always smells faintly of incense and mysteriously knows how to fix your Wi-Fi.
