French sound artist Bastien Pons makes a hauntingly beautiful statement with his debut album “Blinded” — a bold and immersive exploration of sound, silence, and perception. It’s not an album you simply listen to; it’s one you inhabit. Pons, who comes from a background in black-and-white photography and studied musique concrète under Bernard Fort, approaches composition like a visual artist. Every track feels like a photograph developed in sound — full of texture, contrast, and emotional depth.
Across its seven tracks, “Blinded” unfolds as a series of sonic vignettes that merge field recordings, ambient drones, industrial hums, and minimal melodic fragments. The opening moments feel like stepping into a dimly lit room — sounds echo, shift, and breathe around you. Pons masterfully uses silence as much as sound, letting space and decay carry as much emotional weight as his distorted tones. Tracks like “Babi Yar” and “I Did Not Kill Her” linger with a quiet menace, while “Et Si Un Jour” (featuring Paz) closes the album in a ghostly hush that feels almost sacred.
What makes “Blinded” stand out is its tactile nature — you can almost feel the music. Pons treats audio like a raw material, sculpting it until it becomes a sensory experience that bridges the worlds of sight and sound. His work recalls experimental legends like Lustmord and Coil, yet his artistic voice remains distinct — deeply personal, fragile, and deliberate.
“Blinded” isn’t for casual background listening. It’s a slow burn that rewards patience and introspection, revealing new details with every listen. This is an album for those who crave music that challenges perception and dares to make you feel the unseen.
‘Blinded’ is a haunting debut that blurs the line between music and art.
