"For most of its running time, Blind sounds like it’s playing at the wrong speed or stuck in a lock groove. It’s laden with an oppressive, ominous atmosphere that never clicks into release – it never gratifies with the kind of Colosseum-sized climaxes of post-rockers Explosions in the Sky or Mogwai. Instead it lingers tensely – like a kind of perpetual Birthday Party intro, as if Nick Cave were about to step out from behind a curtain, pink nail polish splattered on his eyelids and bat shit ringed around his nipples.

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