Nos Phillipé’s Nos Phillipé—An Avant-Garde Head-Trip That’ll Mess With Your Brain (In a Good Way)
Let’s get one thing straight: this album is not for everyone. If you’re looking for chart-topping bangers or something to blast at your next house party, keep scrolling. But if you’re into music that feels like it crawled out of an abandoned spaceship and whispered existential riddles in your ear, then Nos Phillipé might just be your new favorite weirdo companion. Released back in 2010 on the UK-based label Black Atlas, this avant-garde gem blends drone, ambient, and abstract vibes with enough sonic experimentation to make even Brian Eno raise an eyebrow.
Now, let’s talk tracks because, honestly, there are some real standouts here. First up, “Deacons: Control Of The Candidate.” This track is basically what I imagine happens when two ghosts argue over who gets to haunt the same attic. It starts off slow, almost unassuming, but then builds into this dense wall of sound that feels equal parts meditative and mildly terrifying. You know those moments when you’re lying in bed trying to sleep, and suddenly every creak in the house sounds like impending doom? Yeah, that’s this track. And yet, somehow, it works. It’s haunting, it’s hypnotic, and by the end, you’ll either feel enlightened or slightly paranoid. Either way, it sticks with you.
Then there’s “Live At Café Oto,” which shows up twice on the tracklist (don’t ask me why; maybe they just loved it so much they couldn’t resist). This one feels like being trapped inside a malfunctioning synthesizer during a power outage. The layers of drones buzz and hum like rogue electricity, creating this strange sense of unease—but also wonder. There’s something oddly beautiful about how chaotic it all is. It reminds me of that time I tried to bake sourdough during lockdown: messy, unpredictable, but ultimately satisfying in its own weird way.
A quick shoutout to the credits crew: Julie Heffernan’s artwork perfectly matches the album’s eerie vibe, while Jonathan McHugh pulls double duty as both mixer and mastering wizard. Hats off to writers Jonathan Webb and Robert Hopps too—they clearly didn’t hold back when crafting these auditory puzzles.
So, what’s the verdict? Nos Phillipé isn’t easy listening, but it’s exactly the kind of record that makes you feel smarter after hearing it. Or maybe dumber. Honestly, I’m still figuring that part out. What I do know is that this album will leave you questioning everything—including whether you accidentally left the oven on.
Final thought: If Elon Musk ever decides to send a playlist to aliens, he should totally include this. They’d either beam us up immediately or politely decline our invitation to intergalactic karaoke night.
