By scaling down Bing & Ruth manage to expand their sound even further

But while the New York-based pianist and composer has led the project of Bing & Ruth down a gentle path of elegant composition, he’s opted to scale down his larger ensemble, trading it for a sharply-focused three-piece.

Now joined by founding members, Jeremy Viner and Jeff Ratner, Bing & Ruth’s fourth album, Species, is shaped through a minimalist lens of openness and movement. As the trio widen their aim with an emotionally-rich album, Moore propels Bing & Ruth unlike ever before, achieving so through varieties of avant-garde and moments of pure reverie.

While Moore has always given his audience the chance to connect with his music, this is the first time he’s offered a variation of it. Inspired by his love for nature, specifically the desert landscape and long-distance running, Species is framed around what it means to temporarily escape. But while earlier Bing & Ruth albums touched on contemporary style, Species serves as a somewhat radical counterpart. Unravelling with an almost disorienting quality, even in the midst of its abstract gleam, Moore helps soften the bleak reality of a world submerged in grief, encouraging us to not only seek moments of healing and perspective, but how to succumb to its process.

One of the most pleasing aspects of listening to an act like Bing & Ruth is the challenge that comes attached to it. Especially with instrumental music, it becomes partly the listener’s responsibility to gather some type of conclusion. Whether that comes in the form of a striking moment that ignites memory or even factoring in the nuance that exists deep in the latticework of a song – however it’s perceived, Species as a whole urges us to consider a wide array of the unknown.

“Blood Harmony,” the album’s centerpiece ranks as its shortest track at just two minutes. In its runtime, Moore blankets the song with coppery strobes of Farfisa organ, but the space in between where it’s silent are sections of dead air. Particularly with headphones, you’ll softly hear the recording simply existing, muted with crackle and hiss. If you close your eyes, you can almost envision the sound of falling snow. Whether a conscious decision to highlight the track’s negative space or not, Moore’s already achieved partly what he sought to accomplish, and that’s to nudge our curiosity where we find ourselves not only locked in a semi-trance, but aware enough to examine what we’re hearing even when there’s nothing.

Album closer, “Nearer,” shares a similar framework, albeit a longer length. But while Species plays around with basic structure, other moments increase with volume and intensity. “Body in a Room” opens the album – a track that cascades steadily, holding its tone while Moore’s fevered playing never lets the song dip. Mid-April saw Species’ first single, “I Had No Dream”, and throughout its six and a half minutes, the track flourishes as a living and breathing force, sweeping and vast. “Live Forever” stands as the album’s longest and begins with what sounds like the reverberation of a singing bowl, but is likely Viner’s clarinet – the track oscillates and hums with repetition before simply cutting out whereas songs like “The Pressure of this Water” sprawls with chamber pop touchstones.

While moments on Species don’t quite touch on the grandeur we’ve heard from Moore in the past, the trio more than make-do by enticing us still. They’ve created an album that melds into what feels like a massive piece, our patience is required to see how it unfolds, to realize what’s contained inside, and what to do with that information if we ever uncover it.