Weird and creepy may come to mind when hearing The Midnight Room for the first time. The air organ-based first song "Twin Ghosts" is a gorgeous and moody minor key tour de force with saturated choir boy harmonies swirling gently over a minimalist background like shadows in a candlelit cathedral. The seven-note simplicity is marvelous and the song may be the most emotionally moving piece that Jennifer Gentle has created. The haunting disposition doesn't last long, though, as the rest of the album morphs from beauty into a much more tense and temperamental (or psychotic) experiment into the realms of Can and Syd Barrett. The album remains quiet, but can still be dizzying at some times, and at others, absolutely scary. Marco Fasolo's vocals are slightly devilish but sung sweetly in a high pitched timbre that sounds like a gnome on helium. Now and then, he becomes playful and barks, giggles, or shrieks before just the song unravels into a giant finale. The endings are always big and startling, like a giant announcement that the exploration is over, where you can imagine the word "Fin" would appear in huge letters in a '60s Italian film. It's not surprising that the band, being Italian visionaries themselves, lists Federico Fellini as a strong influence. The music is timeless and very cinematic, but definitely an acquired taste that slowly grows on you, or one that you sink into a little deeper with each listen. It's a luminous, dissonant culmination of Deerhoof-ish single note riffs, dissonant piano scales, bowed guitars, kazoos, detuned autoharps, chains and acoustic guitars drenched in heavy reverb. As odd as this all may be, there are definite pop sensibilities, "Ferryman" is like if Captain Beefheart composed a deranged version of a Kinks number, and "Take My Hand" feels a little like a single, but in a strange sea shanty kind of way. This is very highly recommended if you're looking for brilliant music that's deep in the left field of art-house indie pop.