The London-based trio BLiNDNESS formed all the way back in 2008 and seven years later their first LP has arrived. Flaunting tunefulness enveloped in rawness and volume, its songs are unabashedly idling at the crossroads of ‘90s alt-rock and indie, with detailed attention paid to shoegaze and nervy electro elements. The results fall a tad short of amazing, but through confidence and focus it serves as a promising debut; Wrapped in Plastic is out now on vinyl/CD/digital via the Saint Marie label of Ft. Worth, TX.
BLiNDNESS consists of Beth Rettig on vocals and programming, Emma Quick on bass, and Debbie Smith on guitar and feedback; all three get credited with noise. Those curious over the long period between the unit’s formation and Wrapped in Plastic’s emergence should understand that Rettig is part of The Mekano Set while Quick plays in Climbing Boys.
Smith has been busy as well, and she’s the point on BLiNDNESS’s triangle sporting the highest profile; from ’91-’94 she was a touring contributor to Curve and was also involved with Echobelly, Snowpony, Nightnurse, and Bows. A bit more casually she was/is in The Nuns, an all-female Monks cover band (!), and more recently worked alongside her former Curve mate Dean Garcia in SPC ECO.
One might be grasping a few commonalities; Snowpony was an indie supergroup featuring members of Stereolab and My Bloody Valentine, and Bows recorded for the esteemed ‘90s UK label Too Pure. BLiNDNESS’s influences are well-contained, however; amidst the rapidly observable strains of shoegaze and electro pop they strive to maintain a specific sound.
Comparisons have been drawn to Nine Inch Nails, the trio having no qualms over the link. Frankly the similarity didn’t jump out to these ears, though their cultivation of gyration-inspiring techno-clatter is undeniably in the same ballpark. Methinks a less blunt likeness to Reznor is due at least somewhat to another aural relationship, namely the minor resemblance betwixt Rettig’s vocals and the work of PJ Harvey. Elsewhere BLiNDNESS’s musical comportment vindicates associations to The Jesus and Mary Chain.
Furthermore, the album’s title immediately brought to mind a key and eminently quotable line of dialogue from Twin Peaks as delivered by the late Jack Nance; as the LP’s nine selections roughly correspond to the same era as David Lynch’s TV series the tidbit transcends the trivial and seems worthy of a mention.
Opener “Serves Me Right” offers rigid rhythmic pummel and undulations of amp residue; subtle adjustments to the forward motion do arise as the track progresses, but the emphasis largely remains on the persevering drum pattern and effects pedal din. Make no mistake; throughout Wrapped in Plastic Smith is a formidable presence on her instrument.
Really, it’s the application of electronic textures that’s most reminiscent of the late-‘80s and early-‘90s, though they generally manage to sidestep the formulaic in combination with Smith’s unusually loud axe-handling. BLiNDNESS borrowings also evade egregiousness; they don’t sound like a sampler of many and neither do they falter into a carbon-copy of one.
And as said everyone is listed as a noisemaker, but please don’t lose sight of the background detailed above; across its 35 minutes the group proves as catchy as they are caustic. “Song for the Deserving” underscores this reality, simply having the bygone era/aura of alt-radio and MTV buzz singles engraved all over it, a circumstance partially derived from its soulful vocal hook.
The cut’s uptempo thrust proves just as big a factor, and if moderately intense in relation to Wrapped in Plastic’s strongest moments the scenario doesn’t unravel as an especially troubling turn of events. Nothing here registers as a dud in fact, but given what’s in store later “Song for the Deserving” can’t help connecting as a mite obvious.
The beginning of “Last One Dies” blends electro vibrations with a clever pattern of finessed feedback, and as the track evolves Smith plunges into an enjoyably mild psychedelic passage. In its latter portion the tune basically levels off; while not necessarily disappointing it plateaus with likeably modest impact, a situation akin to a handful of Wrapped in Plastic’s entries. Collective focus definitely works in BLiNDNESS’s favor, but there is an occasional lack of surprise.
“No One Counts” opens with a brief rhythm clip insinuating a late-‘80s New Order/pop-industrial merger as heard through a transistor radio; mayhaps this is where some of that NIN vibe is located. As the cut develops, what’s aptly described as a “loud-louder” dynamic gets firmly established. “Sunday Morning” benefits from crisp and very ‘90s drumming attached to an equally sturdy piece of pop songwriting; upon consideration, it’s more beneficially representative of BLiNDNESS’s potential for clamorous melodicism than “Song for the Deserving.”
It’s followed by “Humming Song,” a lesser entry elevated by continued command of sonic milieu. Along the way it mingles edgy canned drums, expressive wordless vocalizing and seriously slow-drag bass playing with mauling passages of string racket. More interesting is the mixture of synth-keyboard and thick bass rumble constituting “Broken,” the guitar becoming gradually heavier and eventually exploding into controlled squall.
A particularly ‘80s swell of techno-pop keyboard begins “All in One,” after which they turn up the knobs and increase the density as Smith gives her wah pedal a good stomping. Some are probably concluding BLiNDNESS as mainly the guitarist’s show, but that’s incorrect; even with her voice mixed low Rettig is consistently felt, and Quick reliably brings the thudding bottom-end.
With the drum programming set to pound “Confessions” is essentially a launching pad for a steady wave of corrosive distortion and electric squeals; in terms of danceable scree it’s less NIN and significantly more MBM; that be Meat Beat Manifesto. It’s highly effective overall and provides Wrapped in Plastic both a closer and a highpoint; smartly, this is the song with an attached video.
There’s no shortage of acts currently peddling shoegaze, a situation going double for electro pop. Having given Wrapped in Plastic a proper number of spins, it appears their most laudable attribute just might be their assured avoidance of the generic. But when these three truly click it’s a pleasure to hear. Groups with members this active frequently never get around to making a follow-up, and in the case of BLiNDNESS that would be a shame.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B
