There’s something undeniably cinematic about Grandbrothers’ latest. Not in the overblown, IMAX sort of way—but in that quiet, reverent way a good scene can shift your entire internal weather. “We Collide” does just that. It hums with a chill tension, a kind of poised forward momentum that never quite spills over. It’s like watching two magnets move ever closer—inevitable, silent, and slightly nerve-racking.
They’ve bloomed past the grand piano now—though not abandoned it. It’s still here, pulsing and glinting like sunlight through leaves. But now there are synths, textured loops, breakbeats curled around the melody like ivy on an old wall. It’s still very much them, but it’s also AIR if AIR had been more into glitchy stuff. “We Collide” manages to be chill and kinetic, grounded and expansive, all at once. The hypnotic repetition builds a kind of spiritual inertia—like being cradled by rhythm.
Overall, it feels alive. There’s a lovely analog messiness to it—the slight imperfections, the lived-in warmth of real instruments pushed up against vintage synths. The piano line feels like it was plucked out of someone’s memory. Organic and lush, like a flower blooming in slow motion—on tape. It’s no surprise this was one of the first tracks they composed for “Elsewhere”—it’s clearly the keystone, the bridge between old constraints and new freedoms.
About Grandbrothers:
Grandbrothers, the telepathic duo of Erol Sarp and Lukas Vogel, have never played it safe. After four albums of coaxing previously impossible textures from a single grand piano, they finally cracked open the toolbox—and in doing so, cracked open a new phase entirely. Now armed with vintage analog synths and a taste for festival energy, they’ve launched their own label (and others) and reshaped their sound from scratch. But what’s remarkable is not that they changed—it’s how natural it sounds. No awkward growing pains, just that satisfying click when two things fit. Or, in their case: when two people collide and spark.
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