Sonic maturity is not always reached by further augmenting one’s sound. It can also arrive when the artist understands what is important. What it is at the core of the project that makes it unique. Mark Nelson has taken such a journey with his project, Pan•American. In the early days, Pan•American relished the experimentalism of drone music, the ethereal quality of post-rock, and the subtlety of electronica. This combination resulted in a series of excellent works, with the self-titled debut and Quiet City standing out in particular. At the time, everything was fair game for Nelson. Ambient music breathed in a minimal spirit, glitch contortions provided an extravagance to the proceedings. And yet, beneath all these different genres and twists, there was something else that defined Pan•American.
At the center of it all stands the solitary guitar, in its simple, stripped-down form. Nelson first introduced this approach to his sound with the 2017 full-length A Son. Stepping away from the deep experimentalism of his earlier works, Nelson instead drove Pan•American into a scenery seemingly taken out of Wim Wenders’ Paris, Texas. It is at this same location that we now find him with The Patience Fader. “Swimming In A Western Motel” comes in, and you are immediately transferred to this desert-like landscape at dusk. Ambiance and imagery is key here, and they can be achieved through simple means. The subtle bends of “The North Line” have seemingly escaped from some experimental western film. And at the same time, the injection of small musique concrete interludes, as with “Baitshop,” make the world of The Patience Fader feel that much more palpable. That much more real.
Once the scenery is set, the journey of peaceful meditation can begin. Again, everything is achieved through the most humble of techniques. The simple guitar touches in “Outskirts, Dreamlit” see the blues tonality stripped to its most basic components. Even the improvisational nature of Nelson’s work does not take on a frenetic quality, but rather an emotive one. The start of “Corniel” is a prime example of this approach. The harmonica fills the space with brilliant color, and yet it never gets out of hand. Instead of a pressing distortion, there is only a harmonious presence. And it is these delicate applications that provide The Patience Fader with its moving quality.
The Patience Fader presents Nelson’s wordless romanticism. A calming shelter through the ongoing reality storm, presented brilliantly through the twists and turns of “Just A Story” and “Almost Grown”. Lyrics are not necessary here, the guitar on its own carries so much emotion. A tale told without any words, and one that yet is able to awaken such sentiment. This has always been the case with Pan•American, but it is something that Nelson first put them in the front with A Son. However, they have lost none of their magic in The Patience Fader.
