Chicago experimental mainstay Olivia Block steps out of her comfort zone on her Black Truffle debut, singing for the first time and dissolving avant-prog pop into a well-oiled pool of organ hums, sparse piano notes, vintage synth drones and tempestuous drums from Jon Mueller. RIYL Gastr Del Sol, Empress, Julia Holter, Talk Talk, The Necks.
A key player in Chicago’s vibrant experimental music scene since the late 1990s, Block has developed an extensive body of work grounded in a personalised, at times emotive approach to the studio-based practices of the musique concrète tradition, while also encompassing improvisation, orchestral pieces, sound installations, and a sustained engagement with the piano. On The Mountains Pass, recorded by Greg Norman at Steve Albini’s Electrical Audio and meticulously edited and constructed over the course of three years, Block pushes into new terrain, introducing her singing voice and drums played by Jon Mueller into flowing assemblages that move seamlessly from ruminative organ tones and fragmented piano airs to explosions of sizzling synths and thundering percussion.
We've been fascinated by Block's output since the Sedimental days, so we were taken aback by this one. It follows her 2021 Room40 release 'Innocent Passage In The Territorial Sea', a lavishly psychedelic lockdown study that the electro-acoustic composer spun into a speculative science fiction film using a broken Mellotron and a vintage Korg. 'The Mountains Pass' is a bigger, wider-reaching album in almost every way, made after a trip to the Northern New Mexico where she was charmed by the local animal life. If its predecessor was focused on the internal world, this one's locked into the outdoors, and Block was moved to evolve her tempered concrète and drone experiments into fully-fledged songs.
She offers a taste on the brief 'Northward', singing hesitantly over delicate piano phrases that slowly cede power to gloomy, unsettling hums. And on 'Hermit's Peak', the album gets moving in earnest, with bright, harpsichord-like synth chimes and narcotic washes of vintage synth that lap against her sparse tones. Mueller's drums are subtle at first, but as Block's instrumentation takes a turn for the dramatic, with bubbling, cosmic waves and horns, he meets her head-on, taking the piece to a crippling crescendo. Block's voice returns on the gentle 'Violet-Green' and its a revelation; her instrumentation here is stripped back, but decisive - everything's there for a reason. Singing with a whimsical intensity, she coos over cascading organs, bells and unstable electronic gurgles that wind around smudgy piano notes until they explode into a dense mass of distortion and wild oscillations. It's like archaic church music or folk music beamed down a wormhole - peak prog, basically.
But all these sounds are deconstructed yet again on 'f2754'. Mueller's freeform rhythms are tightened into a march, and Block re-sculpts her synths and organ sounds into hypnotic loops that vibrate into reverberating, resonant sweeps. Block plays an impressive game of hide and seek, suggesting a direction and then subverting the formula, keeping us guessing until the fluttered final gasp 'Ungulates'. It's her most ambitious, and most rewarding album yet - fitting gear for Black Truffle.
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Chicago experimental mainstay Olivia Block steps out of her comfort zone on her Black Truffle debut, singing for the first time and dissolving avant-prog pop into a well-oiled pool of organ hums, sparse piano notes, vintage synth drones and tempestuous drums from Jon Mueller. RIYL Gastr Del Sol, Empress, Julia Holter, Talk Talk, The Necks.
A key player in Chicago’s vibrant experimental music scene since the late 1990s, Block has developed an extensive body of work grounded in a personalised, at times emotive approach to the studio-based practices of the musique concrète tradition, while also encompassing improvisation, orchestral pieces, sound installations, and a sustained engagement with the piano. On The Mountains Pass, recorded by Greg Norman at Steve Albini’s Electrical Audio and meticulously edited and constructed over the course of three years, Block pushes into new terrain, introducing her singing voice and drums played by Jon Mueller into flowing assemblages that move seamlessly from ruminative organ tones and fragmented piano airs to explosions of sizzling synths and thundering percussion.
We've been fascinated by Block's output since the Sedimental days, so we were taken aback by this one. It follows her 2021 Room40 release 'Innocent Passage In The Territorial Sea', a lavishly psychedelic lockdown study that the electro-acoustic composer spun into a speculative science fiction film using a broken Mellotron and a vintage Korg. 'The Mountains Pass' is a bigger, wider-reaching album in almost every way, made after a trip to the Northern New Mexico where she was charmed by the local animal life. If its predecessor was focused on the internal world, this one's locked into the outdoors, and Block was moved to evolve her tempered concrète and drone experiments into fully-fledged songs.
She offers a taste on the brief 'Northward', singing hesitantly over delicate piano phrases that slowly cede power to gloomy, unsettling hums. And on 'Hermit's Peak', the album gets moving in earnest, with bright, harpsichord-like synth chimes and narcotic washes of vintage synth that lap against her sparse tones. Mueller's drums are subtle at first, but as Block's instrumentation takes a turn for the dramatic, with bubbling, cosmic waves and horns, he meets her head-on, taking the piece to a crippling crescendo. Block's voice returns on the gentle 'Violet-Green' and its a revelation; her instrumentation here is stripped back, but decisive - everything's there for a reason. Singing with a whimsical intensity, she coos over cascading organs, bells and unstable electronic gurgles that wind around smudgy piano notes until they explode into a dense mass of distortion and wild oscillations. It's like archaic church music or folk music beamed down a wormhole - peak prog, basically.
But all these sounds are deconstructed yet again on 'f2754'. Mueller's freeform rhythms are tightened into a march, and Block re-sculpts her synths and organ sounds into hypnotic loops that vibrate into reverberating, resonant sweeps. Block plays an impressive game of hide and seek, suggesting a direction and then subverting the formula, keeping us guessing until the fluttered final gasp 'Ungulates'. It's her most ambitious, and most rewarding album yet - fitting gear for Black Truffle.
Chicago experimental mainstay Olivia Block steps out of her comfort zone on her Black Truffle debut, singing for the first time and dissolving avant-prog pop into a well-oiled pool of organ hums, sparse piano notes, vintage synth drones and tempestuous drums from Jon Mueller. RIYL Gastr Del Sol, Empress, Julia Holter, Talk Talk, The Necks.
A key player in Chicago’s vibrant experimental music scene since the late 1990s, Block has developed an extensive body of work grounded in a personalised, at times emotive approach to the studio-based practices of the musique concrète tradition, while also encompassing improvisation, orchestral pieces, sound installations, and a sustained engagement with the piano. On The Mountains Pass, recorded by Greg Norman at Steve Albini’s Electrical Audio and meticulously edited and constructed over the course of three years, Block pushes into new terrain, introducing her singing voice and drums played by Jon Mueller into flowing assemblages that move seamlessly from ruminative organ tones and fragmented piano airs to explosions of sizzling synths and thundering percussion.
We've been fascinated by Block's output since the Sedimental days, so we were taken aback by this one. It follows her 2021 Room40 release 'Innocent Passage In The Territorial Sea', a lavishly psychedelic lockdown study that the electro-acoustic composer spun into a speculative science fiction film using a broken Mellotron and a vintage Korg. 'The Mountains Pass' is a bigger, wider-reaching album in almost every way, made after a trip to the Northern New Mexico where she was charmed by the local animal life. If its predecessor was focused on the internal world, this one's locked into the outdoors, and Block was moved to evolve her tempered concrète and drone experiments into fully-fledged songs.
She offers a taste on the brief 'Northward', singing hesitantly over delicate piano phrases that slowly cede power to gloomy, unsettling hums. And on 'Hermit's Peak', the album gets moving in earnest, with bright, harpsichord-like synth chimes and narcotic washes of vintage synth that lap against her sparse tones. Mueller's drums are subtle at first, but as Block's instrumentation takes a turn for the dramatic, with bubbling, cosmic waves and horns, he meets her head-on, taking the piece to a crippling crescendo. Block's voice returns on the gentle 'Violet-Green' and its a revelation; her instrumentation here is stripped back, but decisive - everything's there for a reason. Singing with a whimsical intensity, she coos over cascading organs, bells and unstable electronic gurgles that wind around smudgy piano notes until they explode into a dense mass of distortion and wild oscillations. It's like archaic church music or folk music beamed down a wormhole - peak prog, basically.
But all these sounds are deconstructed yet again on 'f2754'. Mueller's freeform rhythms are tightened into a march, and Block re-sculpts her synths and organ sounds into hypnotic loops that vibrate into reverberating, resonant sweeps. Block plays an impressive game of hide and seek, suggesting a direction and then subverting the formula, keeping us guessing until the fluttered final gasp 'Ungulates'. It's her most ambitious, and most rewarding album yet - fitting gear for Black Truffle.
Chicago experimental mainstay Olivia Block steps out of her comfort zone on her Black Truffle debut, singing for the first time and dissolving avant-prog pop into a well-oiled pool of organ hums, sparse piano notes, vintage synth drones and tempestuous drums from Jon Mueller. RIYL Gastr Del Sol, Empress, Julia Holter, Talk Talk, The Necks.
A key player in Chicago’s vibrant experimental music scene since the late 1990s, Block has developed an extensive body of work grounded in a personalised, at times emotive approach to the studio-based practices of the musique concrète tradition, while also encompassing improvisation, orchestral pieces, sound installations, and a sustained engagement with the piano. On The Mountains Pass, recorded by Greg Norman at Steve Albini’s Electrical Audio and meticulously edited and constructed over the course of three years, Block pushes into new terrain, introducing her singing voice and drums played by Jon Mueller into flowing assemblages that move seamlessly from ruminative organ tones and fragmented piano airs to explosions of sizzling synths and thundering percussion.
We've been fascinated by Block's output since the Sedimental days, so we were taken aback by this one. It follows her 2021 Room40 release 'Innocent Passage In The Territorial Sea', a lavishly psychedelic lockdown study that the electro-acoustic composer spun into a speculative science fiction film using a broken Mellotron and a vintage Korg. 'The Mountains Pass' is a bigger, wider-reaching album in almost every way, made after a trip to the Northern New Mexico where she was charmed by the local animal life. If its predecessor was focused on the internal world, this one's locked into the outdoors, and Block was moved to evolve her tempered concrète and drone experiments into fully-fledged songs.
She offers a taste on the brief 'Northward', singing hesitantly over delicate piano phrases that slowly cede power to gloomy, unsettling hums. And on 'Hermit's Peak', the album gets moving in earnest, with bright, harpsichord-like synth chimes and narcotic washes of vintage synth that lap against her sparse tones. Mueller's drums are subtle at first, but as Block's instrumentation takes a turn for the dramatic, with bubbling, cosmic waves and horns, he meets her head-on, taking the piece to a crippling crescendo. Block's voice returns on the gentle 'Violet-Green' and its a revelation; her instrumentation here is stripped back, but decisive - everything's there for a reason. Singing with a whimsical intensity, she coos over cascading organs, bells and unstable electronic gurgles that wind around smudgy piano notes until they explode into a dense mass of distortion and wild oscillations. It's like archaic church music or folk music beamed down a wormhole - peak prog, basically.
But all these sounds are deconstructed yet again on 'f2754'. Mueller's freeform rhythms are tightened into a march, and Block re-sculpts her synths and organ sounds into hypnotic loops that vibrate into reverberating, resonant sweeps. Block plays an impressive game of hide and seek, suggesting a direction and then subverting the formula, keeping us guessing until the fluttered final gasp 'Ungulates'. It's her most ambitious, and most rewarding album yet - fitting gear for Black Truffle.
Back in stock - Recorded by Greg Norman at Steve Albini’s Electrical Audio, featuring drums by Jon Mueller.
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Chicago experimental mainstay Olivia Block steps out of her comfort zone on her Black Truffle debut, singing for the first time and dissolving avant-prog pop into a well-oiled pool of organ hums, sparse piano notes, vintage synth drones and tempestuous drums from Jon Mueller. RIYL Gastr Del Sol, Empress, Julia Holter, Talk Talk, The Necks.
A key player in Chicago’s vibrant experimental music scene since the late 1990s, Block has developed an extensive body of work grounded in a personalised, at times emotive approach to the studio-based practices of the musique concrète tradition, while also encompassing improvisation, orchestral pieces, sound installations, and a sustained engagement with the piano. On The Mountains Pass, recorded by Greg Norman at Steve Albini’s Electrical Audio and meticulously edited and constructed over the course of three years, Block pushes into new terrain, introducing her singing voice and drums played by Jon Mueller into flowing assemblages that move seamlessly from ruminative organ tones and fragmented piano airs to explosions of sizzling synths and thundering percussion.
We've been fascinated by Block's output since the Sedimental days, so we were taken aback by this one. It follows her 2021 Room40 release 'Innocent Passage In The Territorial Sea', a lavishly psychedelic lockdown study that the electro-acoustic composer spun into a speculative science fiction film using a broken Mellotron and a vintage Korg. 'The Mountains Pass' is a bigger, wider-reaching album in almost every way, made after a trip to the Northern New Mexico where she was charmed by the local animal life. If its predecessor was focused on the internal world, this one's locked into the outdoors, and Block was moved to evolve her tempered concrète and drone experiments into fully-fledged songs.
She offers a taste on the brief 'Northward', singing hesitantly over delicate piano phrases that slowly cede power to gloomy, unsettling hums. And on 'Hermit's Peak', the album gets moving in earnest, with bright, harpsichord-like synth chimes and narcotic washes of vintage synth that lap against her sparse tones. Mueller's drums are subtle at first, but as Block's instrumentation takes a turn for the dramatic, with bubbling, cosmic waves and horns, he meets her head-on, taking the piece to a crippling crescendo. Block's voice returns on the gentle 'Violet-Green' and its a revelation; her instrumentation here is stripped back, but decisive - everything's there for a reason. Singing with a whimsical intensity, she coos over cascading organs, bells and unstable electronic gurgles that wind around smudgy piano notes until they explode into a dense mass of distortion and wild oscillations. It's like archaic church music or folk music beamed down a wormhole - peak prog, basically.
But all these sounds are deconstructed yet again on 'f2754'. Mueller's freeform rhythms are tightened into a march, and Block re-sculpts her synths and organ sounds into hypnotic loops that vibrate into reverberating, resonant sweeps. Block plays an impressive game of hide and seek, suggesting a direction and then subverting the formula, keeping us guessing until the fluttered final gasp 'Ungulates'. It's her most ambitious, and most rewarding album yet - fitting gear for Black Truffle.