Interviewing GoGo Penguin has sometimes left me disappointed that their ideas' boundless ambition, the sense that they'd like to take jazz musicianship to the stars or else shake it to pieces, can't be contained by this band's actual strictures. A Humdrum Star, though, makes me grateful for what GoGo Penguin are. The reliance on minimalist, looping riffs existing on the cusp of Philip Glass and Goldie is less marked on this fourth album. As its predecessor Man Made Object's title indicated, compositions are again sometimes begun electronically by drummer Rob Turner, then performed as acoustically as possible, pushing self-imposed restrictions to the limit à la rock's analogue maverick Jack White. This philosophy of balance, of push and pull, has been reinforced by experiencing Shinto spirituality on a Tokyo stop of their rarely-ending tour, explicitly referenced on ‘Transient State’. ‘Prayer’ also confirms nearness to their roots on Manchester's spiritual jazz label Gondwana, but is as telling for Nick Blacka's bass's buzz and swarm around the piano's melodic warmth. With “fourth GoGo” Brendan Williams' production aid, this is an album of textures more than riffs. Chris Illingworth's piano glistens in sharp, summer brightness on ‘Bardo’; Turner's choppy churn falls away from Blacka's acoustic contemplation. Played at optimal, high volume, ‘Strid’ flits between claustrophobic pressure and placid enquiry. The nirvana GoGo Penguin sometimes seek beyond the dancehall is nearer here.