Album reviews: Marina and The Diamonds Published on Monday 30 April 2012 03:55 A roundup of this week's longplayer releases Marina and The Diamonds: Electra Heart "I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch," whoops Marina Diamandis on the lead track of her second album: a good mission statement for the rest of the record. Electra Heart is a mix of wounded anthems - delivered in the saccharine, slightly synthesised tone that made I Am Not a Robot seem like a work of irony - and gruff, fizzing electronic beats. There is more than a hint of reference to the 1980s on tracks such as Power and Control and The Living Dead; the result is a sharp, modern pop album with perhaps a too-heavy air of contrivance. Cate Le Bon: Cyrk A friend of Scotland's Fence Records and her Welsh compatriot Gruff Rhys of Super Furry Animals, Cate Le Bon's album (apparently inspired by a weekend at Fence's Awaygame festival on the Isle of Eigg in 2010) calls to mind both. Highlights include the moonshine-laden, reverb-heavy acid-folk of Julia, the haunting collision of crystalline voice and subtle orchestral cacophony in the background on Greta, and The Man I Wanted's fragile evocation of Nico and Sandy Denny. This is a special record by a singular, emerging singer. Mystery Jets: Radlands Rating: **** Borrowing its typography and (almost) its name from Terrence Malick's disturbing 1973 drama Badlands, London's Mystery Jets present their sharp and wistful take on Americana. From the bright country funk of The Hale Bop to Take Me Where the Roses Go's slide guitar balladry (Sophie-Rose Harper's lovelorn guest vocal is a treat) and the fuzzy urban grunge of Lost in Austin, Radlands is a record which emphasises Mystery Jets" place as one of our most adventurous guitar groups - amid a genre in which it's hard to excel. An honourable mention must also go to record collection-splitting break-up song Greatest Hits, which sounds like, and references, Belle & Sebastian. Krzysztof Penderecki & Jonny Greenwood THE unlikely combination of Polish modernist Krzysztof Penderecki and Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood defies the odds in this powerful, superheated new release on Nonesuch. Greenwood's compositional responses to the wailing density of strings in Penderecki's harrowing Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima and the turbulent soundscapes of Polymorphia are remarkably evocative, slithering echoes of Penderecki shot through now and again with tell-tale rock references. The excellent AUKSO Chamber Orchestra gives visceral performances of all four works, not least Greenwood's Popcorn Superhet Receiver and the often disturbing, but infinitely imaginative and explosive, 48 Responses to Polymorphia. Open your mind and it's a knock-out. Claire Martin: Too Much In Love To Care Rating: **** Slightly surprisingly, this is the first time that Claire Martin has devoted an entire album to the jazz standard repertoire collectively known as the Great American Songbook. Totally unsurprisingly, she makes a lovely job of interpreting a fine selection of songs that range from the fairly obscure (as in the title track) to done-a-zillion-times - and in the latter category, succeeds in putting a fresh spin on warhorses such as How Long Has This Being Going On? and I Only Have Eyes for You. She is more than handsomely abetted in the task by the presence of the great Kenny Barron on piano, leading a top US rhythm section of Peter and Kenny Washington, with saxophonist Steve Wilson thrown in for good measure. No big surprises or radical changes of direction, just a very classy set of very classy songs, beautifully executed by all concerned. Jenna Reid: Morning Moon Rating: **** THIS third solo album showcases a singing nimbleness and a delight in the material inherent in Shetland fiddler Reid's playing, right from the opening untitled march. She is smartly complemented by a choice bunch of accompanists including pianist Harris Playfair, guitarist Kevin Mackenzie, drummer Iain Sandilands and bassist Duncan Lyall, with some occasional sisterly piano from Bethany Reid. There's much heady stuff here, such as the Light and Airy jig sets, and the ringing Scandinavian strings of her tune Goran Berg's, written for Swedish nyckelharpa exponent Olov Johansson, who joins in. The title track, too, is wonderfully mercurial, Reid's fiddle and Playfair's piano rollicking together in a mock-baroque duet. It is Reid's heartfelt treatment of slow airs, however, that really hits the spot, giving an old chestnut such as Hey Tutti Tatti stately new life, and bringing beautifully lingering cadences to Willie Hunter's classic Leaving Lerwick Harbour or Arthur Scott Robertson's Nellie's Favourite. Senegal: Tijaniyya and Muridiyya Rating: **** THE music we normally hear from Senegal comes from Youssou N'Dour, Baaba Maal, and dozens of the other Senegalese musicians buzzing round the international concert circuit: the characteristic sound of their griot tradition has become hardwired into our musical consciousness. But this CD from the ever-enterprising Ocora label, recorded at Paris's Cité de la musique, lifts the curtain on a completely different - and no less Senegalese - musical world. Because of the country's geographical position and its links with France, Senegal's primary religious affiliation to Arabia tends to be forgotten: the population is actually 95 per cent Sunni Muslim. This religion's roots go back to the 11th century, when the ruling dynasty in the Maghreb and Muslim Spain began to convert to Islam the inhabitants of the southern Sahara. It was a process lasting centuries, with first the aristocracy and then the common people gradually abandoning their old animist practices. Only with the consolidation of French colonialism in the late 19th century did the conversion become complete, and when it did it was in the form of Sufi brotherhoods, of which the two whose male-voice singers are recorded here were - and still are - the most prominent. What we get are the anachid hymns and the dhikr chants which follow them as the participants work themselves into a trance. But they are very different in approach. The Tijaniyya style has rock-firm intonation and a bright clarity of diction, while the Muridiyya way is darker and more mysterious, with sudden leaps into very high registers and abrupt plunges to basso-profundo. It all makes a surprisingly cheerful hour - unlike the morbid forms of religion espoused by Europe, this one is about pure communal enjoyment.