Sofiane Pamart - Letter (2LP)

Sofiane Pamart’s Letter arrived in November 2022 and felt like the moment his piano storytelling clicked into a sharper, more personal focus. The French pianist built his name crossing over with the rap world, then stepped into the spotlight with Planet. Letter keeps the cinematic pull of his debut but swaps the travelogue vibe for something closer to confession, all without a single word sung. It reads like a private note, left on a table for whoever needs it.

Pamart’s touch is instantly recognisable. He favours lyrical right-hand melodies that sit just ahead of the beat, with the left hand keeping a steady pulse that feels almost like a heartbeat. There’s drama here, but not the kind that shouts. He uses silence as punctuation, so when the chords do open up, they land with real weight. You can hear his classical schooling in the voicings and phrasing, yet the structure often nods to the loop-driven patience of hip hop. That blend is his sweet spot and Letter leans into it with confidence.

The sequencing is tight. Early pieces set a hushed tone, almost like a room exhaling after the door closes. Midway through, he lifts the dynamic ceiling and lets his themes unfurl in wider arcs, then returns to intimacy for the closing stretch. It’s a slow reveal that rewards front-to-back listening. You get that feeling of turning a page and realising the handwriting has changed, but the voice is the same. There’s a reason listeners who came in through his collaborations have stuck around for the solo records. He knows how to set a scene with a few well-placed notes, then build tension without filling every space.

Pamart has always been good at melodies you can hum on the way to the tram, and Letter is full of them. Some arrive bright and clear, others show up like a memory you can’t place. He’ll tease a motif for a minute or two, then shift the harmony under it so it tilts and catches new light. Those little turns keep the record moving even when the tempo sits low. It also makes Letter a strong gateway for anyone who usually bounces off modern classical. You don’t need a conservatory background to feel this. It’s built for the everyday, which is part of his project. Bring the piano out of the hall and into regular life.

There’s a tactile quality to these recordings as well. You can hear the pedal work, the slight thud of felt, the way the sustain blooms and recedes. It’s the kind of detail that makes Letter vinyl a lovely way to live with the album. The pieces breathe on a turntable. If you’re the sort who trawls a Melbourne record store on a Saturday arvo, you’ll know the pleasure of dropping the needle, making a cup of tea, and letting a side play through without touching your phone. Sofiane Pamart vinyl just suits that ritual. And if you need to buy Sofiane Pamart records online, keep an eye on reputable shops that specialise in vinyl records Australia wide, because his titles don’t always hang around.

Context matters with Pamart. He’s part of a wave of artists who treat the piano like a storytelling tool for now, not a museum piece. Letter underlines that with pieces that feel diaristic but never indulgent. He resists the flashy runs you might expect from a player with his chops, and that restraint makes the cathartic moments hit harder. The record also sidesteps the sleepy ambience that can make piano albums blur together. Even at its quietest, there’s intent.

If Planet was about mapping a world, Letter feels like writing from inside it. That shift makes it the one I reach for late at night, when you want focus without losing warmth. It’s also the album I’d hand to someone curious about Sofiane Pamart albums on vinyl. The melodies stay with you, the pacing invites complete listens, and the mood holds a room without grabbing it by the collar.

Letter is proof that clarity can be bold. No grand concept, no crowd of features, just a pianist with a clear voice and the confidence to let it speak. If you’re building a collection that balances modern piano with something a bit streetwise in spirit, put this beside Nils Frahm and Ludovico Einaudi. Then make space for it to breathe. Music like this is generous. It gives you back the time you spend with it.