Blóð by Janus Rasmussen

All eyes were on Janus Rasmussen when he announced he was going solo last year. The Faroese had, after all, made a name for himself in celebrated collaborative endeavours, from the electronic pop quartet Bloodgroup to his output as one-half of the duo KIASMOS, alongside Ólafur Arnalds. Particularly as part of Kiasmos, Rasmussen gained worldwide esteem enchanting listeners with one-of-a-kind fusions of acoustic instrumentations and electronic textures. The duo’s sonic experimen- tations definitely paid off, with Kiasmos headlining some of the world’s most respected festivals, such as INASOUND, Lowlands, Paraíso, BIME, Mad Cool, and Lovebox.
Notwithstanding the pressure, Rasmussen’s solo debut, Vín lived up to expectations. Released via Christian Löffler’s Ki Records, the album proved to audiences just how much Rasmussen is a composer in his own right as well as revealing the full scope of the musician’s talents. Vín luminously explored new sound-worlds within the realm of experimental minimal techno with a range that peaked and lulled in all the right places.
Setting out on his own was clearly an empowering experience as one year on, Rasmussen gifts us with more solo releases. While single Jörð, released late March, was made for the dancefloor, Bloð is pure introspection. The track is moody and mysterious but not exactly dark, sounds are idiosyncratic, quirky even. “The idea behind the track is to keep it as simple as possible and to use each sound to its fullest potential,” says Rasmussen. The piano is a key component of both of his latest releases, but in Bloð its influence is subtle. Chords and keys blend in with other loose sounds becoming indistinguishable at times, albeit adding an overall elegance and grace. “I enjoy keeping things simple these days to let the songs decide which way they want to go,” adds Rasmussen.
Recorded from his studio in Reykjavík, Bloð definitely draws on Rasmussen’s experience with Kiasmos, except this time, rather than having Ólafur’s classically informed contributions, Rasmussen fills in the gaps with his own piano experimentations. The result is no less thoughtful - four minutes of listening to Bloð takes the mind to a distant place, either far out or deep inside. The single’s name, Bloð means blood in both Icelandic and Faroese - a tribute not only to Rasmussen’s roots, but also to the country he has made home for the last years. “I'm working with the concept of duality - also present in all the song titles which work in both Icelandic and Faroese, but sometimes don't exactly mean the same,” he says.