With his latest project under the “Umberto” name, Matt Hill has once again created sonic worlds that exist comfortably within the realm of cinema, his main musical inspiration. But while earlier projects invoked the tension of the Italian giallo film genre, his latest release emits warmth, calm, and contemplation. Black Bile is quite literally a meditative album.
Not surprisingly, Hill is an active film and television composer, scoring the 2022 film Loveseat, as well as the 2020 thriller Archenemy. His inspiration tends to be wide and varied; the title Black Bile references the ancient Greek theory of the “four humors”, an early medical theory linking the inner workings of the human body to the elements – resulting in music that seems to combine the wonders of science with genuine human emotion. The opening track, “Grasp”, sounds at first like Phaedra-era Tangerine Dream, but the more haunting sounds that emerge from early minimalist synthesizer music tend to be colder than the natural, analog vibe that Hill works with. The song gently chugs along with soothing electronic keyboard arpeggios as long, sustained notes envelop the track.
“Spoonwood” takes a different tack: less dependent on synthesizers with the gentle implementation of acoustic guitars and piano. Hill continues to take a slow, measured approach, and the result is deeply satisfying. The film score inspiration is fully displayed with “October”, an appropriately titled track that sounds like a prog-folk band suddenly decided to ditch their initial ideas and become an instrumental ambient collective. Organ and piano drive the performance, but increasingly intense and insistent guitar fingerpicking soon raises the tension.
The songs on Black Bile began life from Hill as piano improvisations “to find the notes and patterns that created the musical and emotional structure from which he could expand with textural detail”, as the album’s press notes explain. The piano also creates soothing, mysterious melodies, as in “Monkshood”, as electric and acoustic pianos intertwine to create the song’s spine, with synths, percussion, and guitar weaving around the pianos.
Elsewhere, the slightest hint of Gothic overtones informs the mysterious and gripping “Vestige”, a muted guitar lick gives “Dying Honey & Linden” a slightly funky edge. The dark, rough, lo-fi piano chords that form the basis of “Empty Shell” become less and less threatening as acoustic guitar and subtle synths emit the sensation of a warm, isolated place that seems unsettling but is ultimately filled with yearning and emotion. Matt Hill is a master of creating moods that may be unfamiliar and alien but, like the best ambient music, are eventually welcoming in their own way.