One Little Indian
Recorded as the twentieth century entered its last decade, Gling-Gló is now an undeservedly low profile factor in Bjork’s back catalogue. This album of (mainly Icelandic) standards and originals with Gudmundar Ingólfssonar’s Jazz trio is a joyful, straightforward listen. I can’t understand a word of fourteen of the songs, and it’s probably my ultimate melancholy hangover album. The mood swings from playful to bittersweet and back. “Luktar-Gvendur” is capable of making shower-peppered, weekday walks through sunlight to the same place you have to be worthwhile. Gling-Gló shows an artist who has sat so successfully in daring and otherworldly territory occupying a very normal context. I can appreciate the breadth of her catalogue, but this is the album where Gudmundsdóttir most consistently crops up as a life-saver.
One Little Indian
I was intrigued from the second I saw a copy of Telegram. An absent track listing and 3 Colours Blue echoing artwork made it a CD I browsed over several times before purchase. It’s actually a remix collection that ably puts the Post years in a slightly different context. Stylistically, Telegram wanders from lounge Jazz (Deodato) to drum & bass (Dillinja) without sounding forced. Warp mainstays LFO bring “Possibly Maybe” down to a heart beat with library funk trepidation. 808 State’s Graham Massey makes a lovely flickering dirge of “Army of Me.” The mind tingling “[Flirt as a promise]” take on “You’ve Been Flirting Again” proves an album centrepiece and betters the original to my ears. Subtle bleeps, distant strings and doctored vocals create Lost In Translation levels of uncertain romance. Telegram is a winning case of confection over cash in.