- Bald Nun
- Third-Eye Slide-Show
Heidatrubador is the solo project alias of Heiða Eiríksdóttir, who I know best for her work with the three-guitar-attack-rock of Hellvar. She’s got a new solo cassette out on FALK (Fuck Art Let’s Kill), the same label that blew my mind earlier this year with releases by K Fenrir and Harry Knuckles so when I got an email offering a sneak peak at this new tape I knew it would be something interesting.
Eiríksdóttir shows a surprising blend of styles on Third-Eye Slide-Show. The album opens with “STP,” a gritty lo-fi number that may have spontaneously invented a new genre of shoegaze-horror with it’s haunting qualities, but then shifts gears completely with “MITDE,” an electo-whacko-trippo turning of knobs and altering of frequencies that feels like little pieces of different songs stitched together in little sample bursts, more pure sound than a song. The disparity in styles is jarring, with perhaps the only overlap being just a hint of electric buzzing in the background of parts of “STP” that sort of carries over to “MITDE,” but that’s a stretch; these are two distinctly different sonic experiences that one simply wouldn’t expect to find on the same album. The side concludes with “Bald Nun,” another purely electronic track that continues to move the needle on Third-Eye Slide-Show from less to more extreme. It feels like something the Butthole Surfers might have made had they moved in a more digital direction. It approaches brutalism with its heavy repetitive low end sounds, though never quite gets harsh enough to fit into that subgenera, instead occasionally devolving into purely weird when some of the new samples are introduced to the overall structure.
The vibe carries over to the B side with “Arnim,” but then takes a turn back to a more traditional form with the title track “Third-Eye Slide-Show,” what starts as a more traditional indie rock instrumental before bringing in some electronic elements, creating what at times is a jarring dichotomy between two different styles. “VWT” brings it home with the strongest track on the album, a deep, rich piece with a simple structure and some long, basic notes on the synth. It’s methodical without becoming plodding and feels like it would perfect on a sci-fi movie soundtrack, probably something that involves dangerous robots, or at the very least a deranged computer that wants you to nuke Akureyri or something. Which just goes to show that you can’t trust robots or computers, because they’re shifty like that.
– Jeff Obermeyer