Refusing to compromise and half-measures, Pharaoh records the most personal, sincere and interesting album for him.
Leaving the task of maintaining a balance between recognizable elements of his work and a space for experimentation, Pharaoh becomes an anomaly, especially against the background of conformal freshmen who have time to creatively fade away even before the moment of their first popularity. On the new album, imbued with the rhetoric of the greatest detachment, Gleb tries himself in many non-obvious directions, trying to find more open and honest ways of contacting the audience. The cross-cutting theme of PHUNERAL is the rejection of its own media presence - Gleb is frankly cramped within the framework of a simplified image, where both gloss and part of the audience are trying to pack it. On some tracks, Pharaoh deliberately refers to a sloppy raw sound, preferring the sincerity and straightforwardness of this approach to Instagram cloying.
The new release still represents the introspection of the artist's personal experiences, although it can hardly be called a natural development of the previous sound - it is not too similar to either the mint-berry PHOSPHOR or the caramel Pink Phloyd. “This recording is not intended for persons under eighteen years of age” - a line that is ideal as an intro not only for one of the juiciest tracks (“Sundae”), but for the entire album. Aggressive and gloomy texts familiar to Pharaoh's creativity become especially bilious and cynical here (the influence of Nevzorov?). Such licentiousness, ignorance of genre conventions and self-irony ("The Revelation of a Successful Man" is a mockery in the title itself) in the context of the Russian scene feels like a breath of fresh air. Among other things, there is even an ironic homage to college rock ("Flash Coffin") on the album, although it is obvious that, contrary to the wishes of some of the fans, Gleb does not particularly want to linger in the role of a rock star.
Much more interesting to him is the task of collecting the recorded material of different textures into a general picture, expressing the true human nature through the omnipresent disembodied energy of music. The tracks present on the album, leading both to the origins of Gleb's work and to side mini-releases ("10: 0 Freestyle", "1996"), appropriately coexist with the viscous and thick "Last Track on the Wall" and the melancholy-detached "Death ". Looking at the album, Shnurov sees the goal of creativity as achieving "eschatological delight" - in Pharaoh's music this is reflected in a vague premonition of the approaching autumn, which erases the traces of the most violent human passions with rain drops. A dozen and a half dissimilar tracks add up to an integral psychedelic work, in places sounding like an ideal suicide message - it seems that Pharaoh feels extremely comfortable in this state. Breathe in the cloudy autumn air with it.