Grown Unknown

Lia Ices is a Brooklyn-based pianist, singer-songwriter who understands the importance of space. Her music is symphonic and yet austere. Each part weaves with another in a way that is lush but never overpowering. At the center are Ices’ watery vocals that splash into the murk with great enthusiasm. “After Is Always Before” trips through the dark with a magnificence worthy of Low and Dawn Landes. “Grown Unknown” throws a few handclaps into the mix for refined exuberance. “Bag of Wind” is a piano drama played out in real time, while “Ice Wine” throws a stalking string section into the fire. There’s a Parisian pop vibe lurking underneath the chamber music. The sound is nearly monochromatic — or sepia-toned — except there are flourishes of unexpected color that catch the songs unaware. Just as Francoise Hardy, Marianne Faithfull and Tori Amos have sparked conversation with their adventurous sonic textures, so goes Ices, a modern-day sitting-room expert. She lives between decades, if not centuries.