Nick Storring: Mirante

Nick Storring titles his ninth album with a Portuguese word meaning "lookout," though the music rarely lets you settle into any one view. His connection to Brazil is indirect—two tracks were written before he ever visited—but the album carries the energy, textures, and rhythms of a place half-remembered, half-imagined. Instead of leaning on familiar Brazilian cues or predictable frameworks, Storring builds unusual structures and unexpected sonic pathways, conjuring streets, markets, and open skies through fleeting rhythms and delicate timbres. The result is music that feels alive, immediate, and full of surprises.

Storring works here at his most rhythmically engaged, a shift from the more ambient focus of earlier releases. The opener, "Roxa I," begins with sparse synth chords before percussion drifts in and out, gradually layered with keyboards, electronics, and subtle percussive accents. The piece moves with a curious, exploratory gait, favoring detours over a straight path. It is contemplative without losing momentum and rhythmic without ever aiming for the dance floor—a tricky balance that the artist handles with quiet confidence.

More than forty instruments appear across the album, all played by Storring. The palette ranges from conventional to unconventional: singing bowls, dog whistles, even a bamboo saxophone. With so many ingredients, the music could easily feel crowded, yet he arranges each layer with care. Dense textures coexist without congestion, and even the oddest sounds feel deliberate.

Tracks like "Falta De Ar" and "Terra da Garoa" introduce industrial-funk elements, irregular global grooves, and sharply etched percussion. In contrast, the meditative "Parque Tingui" steps back from rhythm almost entirely, letting field recordings and sustained tones shape the space. The closing "Roxa III" runs nearly ten minutes, moving through ambient drift, rattles and shakers, flashes of samba, and evolving polyrhythms. It resists settling into a single identity, instead unfolding as a dialogue between motion and stillness.

Across these seven pieces, Storring avoids a literal travelogue. What emerges feels closer to memory: impressions, fleeting images, and lingering sensations rather than exact replication. By combining his signature atmospheric sensibility with a sharper rhythmic focus, Storring creates an album that is adventurous, thoughtful, and rewarding—an inventive tribute realized on his own terms.

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