Album Review: Polaris by Drang – A Genre-Bending Sonic Odyssey
Let’s cut to the chase: Polaris by Drang is not your typical "put it on while folding laundry" kind of album. Released in 2018 under Germany’s indie radar (literally, no label—just raw passion), this record feels like André Hullmann locked himself in a studio for weeks, armed with every instrument known to humankind and a brain wired for chaos. And honestly? It works.
If you’re into Neo-Classical vibes mashed up with Post-Metal grit, Dark Ambient eeriness, Experimental noodling, and maybe even some Folkish undertones you didn’t know you needed—this one’s for you. Picture Beethoven jamming with Tool at a campfire somewhere deep in the Black Forest. Yeah, that vibe.
Standout Tracks That Stick Like Glue
Track 3: Polaris
Okay, so there’s something about this title track that just slaps. Maybe it’s how Hullmann layers those haunting piano notes over what sounds like an electric guitar crying its soul out. Or maybe it’s because halfway through, the whole thing explodes into this cinematic wall of sound that makes you want to either cry or punch a tree. Either way, it sticks with you. I found myself humming bits of it days later while brushing my teeth, which tells me it’s got staying power. Plus, let’s be real—the name “Polaris” fits perfectly; it feels like staring up at the night sky and realizing how tiny we all are. Deep stuff.
Track 5: Requiem (Der Unendliche Raum Dehnt Sich Aus)
Now here’s where things get weirdly beautiful. Translated as “Requiem (The Infinite Space Expands),” this piece starts off slow and brooding, almost like it’s tiptoeing around your emotions. Then BAM! Around the two-minute mark, these ominous basslines creep in like shadows stretching across an empty room. The mix of acoustic instruments and electronic textures creates this dreamy yet unsettling atmosphere—you can practically hear the void yawning open. By the end, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hug someone or retreat into solitude forever. So yeah, mission accomplished.
Why This Album Feels Like a DIY Masterpiece
One glance at the credits confirms what you’ll already suspect after listening: André Hullmann basically is Drang. From composing to mastering, artwork to editing, he wears more hats than a milliner gone mad. Kudos to Veronika Fader for the cover art too—it’s minimalistic but packs a punch, much like the music itself.
What’s wild is how seamless everything feels despite juggling so many genres and styles. There’s no filler here; each track has its own personality, yet they all vibe together like old friends arguing passionately over philosophy. You won’t find cookie-cutter hooks or radio-friendly choruses—this is music that demands attention.
Final Thoughts (With a Dash of Whimsy)
Listening to Polaris feels like being handed a map to uncharted territory only to realize halfway through that the map was written in invisible ink. It’s challenging, rewarding, and occasionally downright bizarre—but isn’t that what great art should do? Make you think, feel, and question reality?
Also, fun fact: Did anyone else notice that Hullmann plays both electric AND acoustic versions of nearly every stringed instrument? Dude’s clearly got talent—and possibly a storage unit full of gear. My only complaint? After hearing this, I now have existential crises set to a killer soundtrack.
So go ahead, dive into Polaris. Just don’t blame me when you start seeing constellations in your sleep.
