Somewhere in Lehigh Valley, in the Great Appalachians, the duo of Russ Waterhouse and Lea Cho that makes up Blues Control spend their days creating a kind of avant-noise, psych rock and jazz experience. Once city dwellers in the borough of Queens, they’ve headed for the country and what we find on latest album Valley Tangents is the results of the move upstate. When you hear of bands going to the middle of nowhere (okay, Lehigh Valley isn’t exactly the most remote of places) to record an album, it generally ends up one of two ways: a raucous no-holds-barred party, or an introspective and restrained effort. Blues Control’s record falls into the latter category; it’s a more relaxed affair than previous album, 2009’s Local Flavor, and (generally) focuses on the quieter end of the psych spectrum.

Word is that working with, ahem, “spiritual comedian” Laraaji (best known for his work with Brian Eno) has guided Blues Control to a more peaceful sound, and this seems to have pushed Lea Cho’s piano and keyboard skills to the fore, ahead of Waterhouse’s guitar and tape manipulations. Cho is the one responsible for the band’s “signature Debussy via Guaraldi qua Bley qua Hornsby pianisms” and immediately, on opening meditation ‘Love’s a Rondo’, her wonderfully loose playing is up close and personal and sparkles with bluesy charm. It’s a relaxed opening, but ‘Iron Pigs’ shows that time amongst nature hasn’t quite dimmed Blues Control’s desire for noise; built around Cho’s bass notes (the piano riff actually sounds like a close relation of Talk Talk’s ‘Life’s What You Make It’) and stuttering drum machine, it sets the scene for Waterhouse’s guitar and synth to go crazy all over the top of the foundations with parping ceremonial trumpet sounds and squalls of controlled feedback.

That’s about as upbeat as it really gets though; ‘Opium Den/Fade To Blue’ is a claustrophobic experience with the piano buried under a metronomic drum machine and a druggy, room-spinning fuzz, while ‘Walking Robin’ recalls the ambient best of Tortoise through electric piano and twanging guitar and is perhaps the most bright and welcoming moment on the album. That’s followed by the barely-there neo-classical piano movement, ‘Open Air’, which builds on nothing but Cho’s piano until some fluttering ambient noise joins at just the right moment. It’s right here you realise that Blues Control really have benefitted from a move away from the city: there’s airiness to this track and the others, and a lightness of touch that might have been missing from a city record. Closing track ‘Gypsum’ is a freewheeling groove with Cho flying up and down the scales without a care in the world as Waterhouse tries to keep up, filling in the spaces with beats and noise, and the duo sound like they’re having the time of their lives.

There’s a time and place for the music of Valley Tangents; it’s not a record you’re going to put on again and again and should be best savoured in those quiet moments that seem few and far between these days. But when you do play it, peacefulness settles around you – if these are the results, maybe we could all do with getting out the city a little oftener.