After first glance at a partial list of the instruments and found objects used by Hanne Hukkelberg to create her debut album Little Things-- a catalog that includes banjos, accordions, bottlebrushes, bicycle spokes, fiddles, glockenspiel-- you might find yourself bracing for an unruly, discordant mess. Put to practice, however, this homespun assortment of minute individual sound particles is assembled into an astonishingly seamless mosaic over which Hukkelberg crafts her breezily jazzy electronic pop-- the resulting effect of which is something like watching an artisan build a functional wristwatch out of spun glass and raw sugar cane.
Little Things was painstakingly arranged and recorded over the course of two years by the 26-year-old Hukkelberg and producer Kåre Vestrheim, who also helmed Shining's In the Kingdom of Kitsch You Will Be a Monster. But despite its meticulous construction, upon casual listen the album can appear to be almost formlessly wispy. Hukkelberg's sparkling, effortlessly likable vocals evoke those of a carefree Lisa Germano, or perhaps a frostier, more tranquil Solex; and draw immediate (if somewhat predictable) comparison to her fellow Norwegians Susanna and the Magical Orchestra. With each song tightly-fitted with miniature, agile machinery, Little Things is an album that best rewards close, undistracted attention, its every delicate tendril capable of sprouting a blossom.
Quietly lapping water and gentle strains of Hawaiian pedal steel accompany "Cast Anchor", while Hukkelberg celebrates "not the urge to go somewhere else/ not the urge to blow away/ but the urge for stand still." On "Little Girl" she incorporates playful carnival textures, with jaunty banjo and tuba dovetailing-- perhaps even a bit too pristinely-- into dreamy meadows of ambient electronics.
Featuring contributions from various members of Norwegian acts like Shining, Jaga Jazzist, and Kaada, the jazz-inflected playing on Little Things is stellar throughout; although you may wish Hukkelberg and Vestrheim had occasionally allowed things to become more unbuttoned. The woozy Dixieland touches on "Displaced" are about as raucous as the album ever gets, though tracks like "True Love" and "Koeft" do contain some pleasantly chewy bits of languid woodwinds, jazzy guitar and diced Monkish piano.
As a songwriter Hukkelberg proves unafraid to do a little strenuous legwork, typically bypassing the easy chorus or turn of phrase in favor of thornier, gradually unwinding melodicism. In so doing, it might seem that she leaves some tantalizingly ripe hooks on the vine on such tracks as the Joni Mitchell-like "Do Not as I Do" or the blissful, strolling-accordion closer "Boble". Instead she has chosen to gather a harvest more distinctively and peculiarly her own, a decision that sounds more sensible with each subsequent listen.
