Pitchfork

When Björk isn't being mentioned, the Icelandic indie music chatter goes something like this. Múm: childlike! Beguiling, like cute insects with laptops! And Sigur Rós: Chilling! Instant transport to the lichen plains of their native land! While all of that's sort of true, Slowblow's departure from the country's musical stereotypes does lend their self-titled third album a refreshing air. Slowblow principals Orri Jònsson and Dagur Kàri Petursson largely ditch their peers' electro/acoustic textures in favor of detachedly strummed acoustic guitars and gentle, organic percussion. And their fractured little songs speak in a language we understand, rather than hinting at a mystery that lunkheaded yanks like to get all hyperbolic about.

Slowblow aren't above leaning on their pals, of course. Múm's Kristín Anna Valtysdóttir drifts in with vocals here and there, and the album was mixed at Sigur Rós' reportedly very drafty studio. But while Kristin Anna's voice is immediately recognizable, it primarily serves to contrast and complement Dagur Kári's own breathy waver. Opener "Very Slow Bossanova" hesitantly ticks along on a rhythm of tin cans, fleshed out by simplistic Casiotone, piano, and an electric guitar that softly picks out a hopeful little melody.

There's an inviting casualness to this album-- the liner notes speak proudly of it being recorded "to tape in various living rooms and bathrooms in Reykjavík." The results sound like Grandaddy recording on D batteries and good old-fashioned manpower in a secluded green pup tent. It's a long way from Iceland's typical veiled swirls of gauzy fog, or Prada turtlenecks pulled over skinny faces. "Within Tolerance" begins tentatively before Kristín's familiar accordion bleats a note over a lazy snare drum and sustained acoustic chording. More light harmonizing between she and Dagur Kári follows, propelled by the surprisingly effective addition of prominent and steady handclaps. The distorted vocal and crazed fuzz guitar of "Happiness in Your Face" approaches mental-hospital Pixies, featuring a percussion track that sounds like someone pouring out a jar of old rusty screws.

"Phantom of My Organ", however, is the true standout: Orri's carefully spoken, mildly processed vocals suggest Lambchop's Kurt Wagner while a harmonium whirs and knitting needles clack behind a fluttering violin. It's one of the few tracks here that does channel Sigur Rós' lucid grandeur, albeit in a much rootsier form-- a sepia tone lullaby crackling from a vintage radio in one of Slowblow's cozy porta-studio living rooms. But this grassroots approach isn't always successful. Parts of Slowblow sound tossed off, or at least unfinished. "I Know You Can Smile", for example, holds plenty of potential, but never rises above its polite offhandedness. Still, despite a handful of small missteps, this quietly fractured release remains direct and welcoming, and teems with simple surprises.