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Honingbeer's "Opia" is as careful as it is meticulous work. The result is big, dramatic and bold. It is full of emotional warmth and sincerity. It is pure and constantly surprises in the best possible way.
Her debut EP for Bigamo was written during the pandemic while she was living alone, and partly homeless, really. Opia, by definition, is a defect in vision. In terms of Honingbeer's music, it refers to a quite different kind of self-reflection, as she did not shy away from challenging the image of herself in the mirror to lead her to the deeper discomfort hidden in her subconscious. The effect of this journey was cathartic, as it caused her to reach a new found musical autonomy while she learned to understand loneliness as something that makes her feel safe and sound.
The entire album manages to provide introspection, absorbing energy and twilight light, and that closes a record that knows how to turn musical pulp into a refreshing ambrosia juice. The more the record is listened to, the more difficult it is to locate it in a specific geographical location. His music seems to never solidify, to be a flow of sounds and impressions that never seem to remain fixed in place or memory, like a perfume or a quick vision of a body in motion, until it postulates as one of the true future values of tame and lustrous electronics.
Honingbeer's command of language is total, and here they have once again delved into the past to be inspired by another verse, more forceful and melancholic, but no less evocative. All in all, we can safely say that this Opia is on the verge of excellence.
