He's blind, black and brilliant, but whatever you do, don't confuse Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu with Stevie Wonder. Forgot about the barrage of young synth bands currently ram-raiding the charts, either; the Aboriginal singer is officially the Next Big Thing in 2009. Since a performance on Jools Holland earlier this year, Yunupingu has been sowing the oats for northern hemispherical success, his delicate acoustic songs occasionally comparable to the likes of a world music-style Bon Iver.
Anyone who's seen Yunupingu in a live setting will be well aware of the hauntingly beautiful atmosphere his songs create; unsurprisingly, it's difficult to capture that magic on this studio recording. Singing in both the native indigenous Australian dialect and English, it matters little that much of 'Gurrumul' is unintelligible - what the musician lacks in lyrical expression, he more than makes up for with his gorgeous voice. A pure, smokey quiver, it resonates through the haze of barely-there instrumentation.
Yet at times, that same haze is the cause of frustration. So much of 'Gurrumul' is written and performed in the same key, tone and arrangement that it sounds like one long piece of music occasionally interrupted by brief pauses. Yunupingu is undoubtedly fantastic at what he does, and songs like the sweetly sung 'Djarimirri', 'Baywara' and 'Gurrumul History' all float along in a dreamy reverie, sometimes with added harmonies and the most understated of double basslines. By the album's midpoint, though, it becomes hard to pick out the beautiful moments from the boring ones.
Is 'Gurrumul' a bit too 'nice' for its own good? Perhaps. But it certainly doesn't mean that you should write off this talented musician - see him live to get the full impact of his gift.
