Odd Doo – 12th June 2026
Christopher Nosnibor
There is something uniquely compelling about the sound of a pipe organ. I’m clearly not alone in this, as there have been many non-religious works which have explored the use of the instrument, ranging from ribcage-rattling drone to the tired groaning wheeze of dilapidated organs in dire need of restoration. Because organs tend to be installed – often designed and built specifically to work with the acoustics of the space – they can’t readily be transported elsewhere, and equally, they each have their own individual sounds, however nuanced the differences may be to the average ear.
After four subsequent albums, O.R.G.II finds Puce Moment – the musical and visual project of Nico Devos and Pénélope Michel, whose choice of name references a short film from 1949 – revisit the inspirations for their 2019 album O.R.G. It was recorded at Saint Joseph Church Armentières, France – a truly remarkable building, with, it would appear, a quite spectacular pipe organ.
They describe the album as ‘an immersive musical work that brings the traditional pipe organ into dialogue with electronic and drone compositions, unfolding within a liminal soundscape — a space of transition and encounter orchestrated by Puce Moment’.
And so it is that they present five compositions constructed around quivering, slow-moving drones which are tonally rich, warm and organic. And immersive they are, indeed. The album begins with the ten-and-a-half-minute ‘Simoon’, which was aired with an accompanying video last month. It’s incredibly textured and nuanced, but to extract those textures and nuances requires a degree of attention. In our overloading, hyperaccelerated, technologically-driven times, where the average attention span is barely three seconds, the idea of sitting down and paying attention to prolonged hums might sound untenable, but the fact is that spending time with the lights down, or off, and the phone in another room while simply feeling the textures, the subtle interplay between the layers and waves is nothing short of a revelation.
The individual pieces melt together – which seems appropriate, given that I’m writing this in the middle of a punishing heatwave, and I feel as if my entire body is slowly melting. ‘Pavna’ pulsates in a way which resonates with my own palpating internal organs… and as if in protest, my laptop crashes and I lose three hundred words of my review in progress. But I’m too sapped to panic, and perhaps more pertinently, I’m feeling too zen thanks to the soporific nature of the cinematic dronescape in which I find myself.
The nine-and-a-half-minute ‘Ruach’ rumbles almost subliminally at first, before transitioning into a rippling wave reminiscent of a combination of Kraftwerk and Tangerine Dream, a trilling waltz with a distinctly retro feel, which bleeds into the fourteen-and-a-half-minute ‘Ilma’, a piece which truly encapsulates the layering and detail of the album.
AA
Aural Aggravation 