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Release Info : Yet another stunning debut album on Resonant, building on their success in 2004 (with Stafraenn Hakon, who plays on this album, and others) with arguably their strongest release schedule in the five years since the label was conceived. Blindfold is the alias of Biggi from Ampop, and is the latest in a long line of Icelandic artists to record for Resonant; however, while retaining the atmospherics and serenity of the output of many of his fellow countrymen, this eponymous collection has little in common musically with his compatriots. In fact, Blindfold is rather difficult to classify; ultimately, this is very accessible melancholic electronic pop with an acoustic element - melodic but backed with sparse, emotive, organic, textured arrangements, coming across on the whole as understated, warm and earnest. Direct comparisons are therefore hard to draw, with only maybe Piano Magic (circa "Artist's Rifles") and Tarwater springing to mind, and with the two achingly fragile vocal numbers that segment the album reminiscent of Maximillian Hecker.
CD Tracklisting : 1. Introvert (2:33) In Biggi's own words : 'It all started during cold, lonely nights in the deep of winter 2002. I had recently spent all of my money on a small studio, which I put up in a bedroom at home, equipped with a rhodes piano, a Juno synthesizer, guitars, a PC and a mixer. I had no idea what I was about to write, but I felt like I had to commit some uncomfortable feelings and emotions to music. That's when I came up with the song "Echoes" - an electronic beat mixed with the soft touch of the Rhodes, along with organic, textured sounds from the Juno keyboard. It was somehow related to my recently-released material with my band Ampop, but I felt like it had something very honest to it - however, I decided to keep it to myself for a while. I wrote two more songs on the same night and managed to create a 7-track EP within a month, which I burned onto a CDR and gave to a few of my closest friends, including Olafur (Stafraenn Hakon). It was only when I went to a party at Olafur's house that I discovered that his friends were all listening to my music and enjoying it. They encouraged me to release it and that's when I decided to send the recordings to a few labels. Fortunately the response was positive, and now they're poised to see light of day....'
Reviews :
Due to a linguistic quirk within the development of the Icelandic language, it is possible for contemporary Icelanders to read and perfectly understand texts that date back almost 1000 years providing everyone with an undiluted, tacit link to their nations past. I have often wondered whether this language factor plays at least some part in the coherent feel (if not sound) of much of the music emanating from the island in recent years, the newest addition to which is Reykjavik's Blindfold. Best known as Biggi from Static Caravan’s Ampop, Blindfold's eponymous debut opens with 'Intro(vert)'; a collection of glowing instrumentronica whose delicate foregrounds and dripping clicks can't help but bring to mind Mum. Similarly 'Sleepless Night's may have overt shades of Manual and even Ulrich Schnauss in its perfectly appointed indietronica, but it's the Sigur Ros connection which burns through the clouds as off kilter vocals become offset against broad, sun-blushed tundra's. Elsewhere 'Daze' borrows the orchestral manoeuvres of Telefon Tel Aviv, 'Blindfold' references everyone from the Doves to Bola, whilst 'Don't Despair' is a sleepy Mogwai. Closing with the Slowdive indebted 'Pokubornin (Foggy Children)', Blindfold have made a gorgeously textured album whose aural Putsch is impossible to resist. Lovely. BOOMKAT
Blindfold's eponymous LP can be a tough one to nail down until you read one word about its origin: "Iceland". Indeed, sole member Birgir Hilmarrson is from the small island with the cold-sounding name, and knowledge of said fact is enough to tell you most of what you need to know about the album -- it's a slow-tempo, spacey workout heavy on odd, high-pitched guitar melodies and airy electronics with the occasional bout of plaintive vocalizing to add variety to the proceedings. The title track is one of the more beautiful bits of thoughtful existentialist instrumentalism via heavily delayed guitars and skittery IDM-style beats you'll ever hear, and the thoughtful vocal track "Daze" is the aural equivalent of a lonely, silent November night after one too many drinks. You also get the saddest accordion you may ever have heard, on the ironically titled "Lucky Beach Riviera Song". Blindfold is a lovely 47 minutes of atmosphere and introspection, and will please nearly anyone looking for another "Icelandic-sounding" CD to put next to their Múm, Sigur Rós, and Björk collections. POPMATTERS
If anyone ever attempted to make a truly "beautiful" pornographic film -- and we're willing to believe that somebody has tried, however dubious the results -- the score would probably sound like Blindfold's music. Electronic music's standardized clicks, kicks and synth washes take these deeply intimate songs to a place where the personal becomes universal. For all the messy, emotional bits hanging out in the open, for every dissonant guitar part and whining synth, there are basic beats to anchor Birgir Hilmarrson's compositions. Slow, sensuous, subdued and strangely, intensely erotic, this expansive music is the sort of thing that could turn something awkward -- for instance, watching strangers fuck -- into a surprisingly sublime experience. Hilmarrson's approach falls somewhere between The Album Leaf's glacial electronic soundscapes and a David Bowie-influenced 1980s film score. Distortion colors every note, and crisp, shuffling beats hold them together. "Nightfall" in particular, with its harmonica-like synths and ghostly choral washes, speaks to an Album Leaf connection, which in turn refers to Jimmy LaValle's Sigur Rós obsession. "Ofsi" shares its unique touch for turning the cold and inaccessible into a personal listening experience. "I See You Through Me" dusts off the drum kit and Hilmarrson's shy vocals. However, it's with Hilmarrson's most distorted, experimental compositions that he carves out his own identity in sharpest contrast to his influences. "Interval" blends twinkling sounds high enough that you'll almost fail to notice the way they twist in the wind with an unsteady low end. "Don't Despair" builds slowly from echo-chamber percussion to heavily distorted, nervous but beautiful guitars and an almost sinister low-end synth. Hilmarrson maintains a powerful tension for a couple of minutes before letting it all dissipate. He does it so effortlessly, you'll wonder how he held it together so long; like a sheet of paper dipped in gasoline then lit on fire, the song is gone. "Lucky Beach Riviera Song" successfully brings Blindfold's more ephemeral charms into line with Hilmarrson's Sigur Rós leanings, ghostly vocals and accordion-like electronics wafting through the after-images of something very much like a cymbal. Epic closer "Pokubörnin" feels like the momentous culmination of Blindfold's basic mission statement, but nothing really beats "Sleepless Nights". With every element just slightly out of place, from Hilmarrson's echoing vocals shimmering in the higher registers to drums that can't decide quite how low they want to be, to droning guitars carving out space for more delicate instrumental flourishes, "Sleepless Nights" leaves you with the impression of a song barely made. This, perhaps, is why sex comes to mind. Like the most tenuous of romantic connections, Blindfold seems barely to have been made. From its creator's incredibly shy vocal contributions to the minute quavering of his favorite instruments, each sonic element reeks of transience. The briefest and most inexplicable of sexual encounters -- the vaguely pornographic, the beautifully unnecessary and unexpected -- are infused with this same exact melancholy. Regardless, the intimacy is undeniable. If you can't imagine why Blindfold evoke in some listeners such sordid ideas, you'll at least be able to understand the sense of closeness. Hilmarsson clutches us to his breast for the duration of his work. As with any form of intimacy -- even the kind you can only watch others engage in -- many will find this frightening. As with every form of intimacy, the rewards are more than worth the risk. SPLENDIDEZINE
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