GLING-GLÓ (WITH TRÍÓ GUÐMUNDAR INGÓLFSSONAR)

Björk's pre-"Debut" album (if that isn't an oxymoron) is the real oddball in her solo discography: a collection of unplugged Icelandic jazz standards, with a little added Irving Berlin and Oscar Hammerstein, sung in the local tongue and never intended for international audiences. Strictly speaking it wasn't, of course, a genuine solo album. The sessions were attributed to Björk Guðmunsdóttir & Tríó Guðmundar Ingólfssonar, but it was the young celebrity singer in the spotlight, as usual.

When the album was recorded in 1990 Björk was still a member of The Sugarcubes: a precocious 25- year old post-punker looking for avenues of expression outside the limited scope of her band's eclectic New Wave sound. It wouldn't be unfair to say her vocal artistry was still a work in progress, as demonstrated by the overworked trademark growl effect here. But the unexpected change of musical pace was evidence of a restless creative spirit, almost ready to emerge from its chrysalis.

It was a big hit in the home country, which probably says more about Iceland than about the music itself. In retrospect the novelty value saves the album, at least when measured against the singer/songwriter's later explorations into modern electronica. I can't say your Björk library would be incomplete without it; the album is undeniably pleasant but still entirely disposable. For dedicated fans the album would obviously have more value, but it's still an album for dedicated fans.

Tucked away in her career amidst her days with The Sugarcubes and after her post-punk heyday with Kuki, the Icelandic diva BJÖRK released the most unusual anomaly of her career with the unpronounceable BJÖRK GUÐMUNDSDÓTTIR & TRÍÓ GUÐMUNDAR INGÓLFSSONAR. Their sole album release as a quartet (yes it was she plus three) was titled GLING-GLÓ which is the Icelandic onomatopoeia version of "Ding Dong" which signifies the sound a bell makes. This release shows a new side of BJÖRK displaying to the world that she was more than a one trick pony. Well, maybe a two trick pony. She did have that kitschy disco pop album at the age of 11 which is virtually unknown outside of her native Iceland. The project started when Guðmundar Ingólfssonar was commissioned by the Icelandic State Radio to record a set of popular instrumental standards and the trio felt it would be infinitely better with a vocalist performing in the native Icelandic language and who else could have filled the bill better than BJÖRK herself who had already put the country on the map musically with her success with The Sugarcubes.

First of all, keep in mind that GLING-GLÓ is mostly sung in Icelandic and was meant to be for an Icelandic audience where it actually did quite well. The majority of the tracks are short but sweet jazz standards focusing on the virtues of vocal jazz but also incorporating a bit of hard bop, Mexican salsa and even Icelandic folk into the mix. There are, however, a couple of songs sung in English at the end of the album. The instrumentation includes BJÖRK on vocals and harmonica, Guðmundur Ingólfsson on piano and tambourine, Guðmundur Steingrímsson on drums, maracas and Christmas bells and Þórður Högnason on bass. Despite BJÖRK being an afterthought to the project, she had a major part in the whole development process and was responsible for selecting the setlist and had her input into the creative process from the get go. She displays her usual role as band leader with her brash and bold vocalizations which in her native tongue give a sense of her roots.

This one is actually a pretty decent set of songs to enjoy. No, this will hardly blow you away if you foam at the mouth every time you hear "Homogenic" or "Vespertine," however there is a nice purity to this one where all the musicians on board are wholeheartedly focused on creating a certain experience outside of themselves. The Icelandic language which is the closest current language to Old Norse is a very rhythmic language and to hear these standards from other artists ranging from obscure American composers of the early 20th century such as Nat Simon ("Luktar-Gvendur" ("Lantern-Gvendur")) to the Mexican salsa of Rablo Beltán Ruiz is quite exotic to the English speaking world indeed. While i would hardly call this album an essential BJÖRK album by any means, it does have a certain charm that works well as dinner music or for anyone interested in the Icelandic volcano goddess' earlier offerings. Everything is well performed and pleasant to the ears. I find this to be a notch above the pure "for collectors only" category and actually enjoy listening to this from time to time. Great dinner music that delivers the most giddy speakeasy feel of yesteryear.