Victor Krummenacher returns with his first new solo album since 2021’s Silver Smoke Of Dreams, and Block Out The Sun finds him leaning deeper into atmosphere, instinct, and emotional weight.

Best known as a co-founder of Camper Van Beethoven and Monks of Doom, and as a core member of the Third Mind alongside Dave Alvin, David Immerglück, Michael Jerome, and Jesse Sykes, Krummenacher has spent decades following his own internal compass. That approach guides this new record from the opening moments.

Rather than chasing explanation or tidy narratives, Krummenacher let feeling lead the way. He describes Block Out The Sun as a darker work shaped by the world around him, the realities of aging, and the quiet ache of loss. These themes surface naturally, not as declarations, but as emotional undercurrents that drift through the songs.

The album builds on the writing path he began with Silver Smoke Of Dreams, though the process this time was even more intuitive. Krummenacher imposed loose creative boundaries and then worked quickly, recording improvisations as soon as ideas surfaced. Lyrics were rarely written down in advance. Most vocals emerged in the moment, refined only after the emotional center of each song revealed itself. He avoided click tracks altogether, favoring a human pulse over precision. After sketching the material, he traveled to Los Angeles to overdub drums with Michael Jerome. While samples and synthetic textures play a key role, the goal was never sterility. Instead, those elements heighten the album’s tension, adding a faint unease that hangs over the music like unsettled weather.

That atmosphere is intentional. In Krummenacher’s mind, Block Out The Sun unfolded visually, closer to a series of scenes than a traditional song cycle. Images of cliffs, forests, rivers, mist, and snow shaped the emotional geography of the record, giving the songs a shared sense of place. It feels cinematic without trying to be cinematic, guided more by instinct than concept.

Across the album, gallows humor brushes up against resignation. Fate lingers nearby. References to songwriting influences appear subtly, never announced, woven into the fabric rather than placed in the spotlight. Krummenacher refined each performance until the songs felt settled, only committing final lyrics once the emotional architecture was firmly in place.

After more than 40 years of recording, he’s learned to trust that process. Thinking less often leads to stronger results. Each song becomes its own small universe, operating by rules discovered rather than designed.

The finished album carries the weight of the moment it was created in. There’s exhaustion in its bones, but also clarity. For Krummenacher, confronting that darkness felt necessary, and the result is a record that feels honest and fully realized, shaped by instinct rather than agenda.