REVIEW: John Glacier - Like a Ribbon
- anchristie89
- Feb 26
- 2 min read
Updated: Mar 4

John Glacier's Like a Ribbon feels like watching a solitary figure navigate the concrete labyrinth of East London at 3 a.m., occasionally glancing skyward to find constellations between skyscrapers. Her debut studio album arrives with quiet confidence, carving out a distinct space in today's crowded musical landscape.
"Satellites," the album's mesmerising opener, sets the tone immediately – Glacier's voice drifts like morning fog over bare-bones guitar, her words "Like a satellite in the dark / In the night" delivered with the nonchalance of someone muttering private thoughts into a voice memo. You get the sense you're eavesdropping on something not meant for public consumption, which is precisely what makes it so captivating.
Glacier operates in the space between worlds – her deadpan delivery hovers above production that shifts from industrial clatter to ethereal weightlessness, sometimes within the same track. She has a knack for contrasts, juxtaposing urban cacophony with moments of natural serenity in ways that feel refreshingly thoughtful. When she observes "new green grass where grass never knew" on the standout track "Found," it's as if she's discovered an oasis in the metropolitan desert.
The production team – including Kwes Darko, Flume, and Evilgiane – crafts sonic environments that feel lived-in and textured. "Emotions" spirals with twinkling rave synths that bring a welcome unpredictability, while "Home" pulses with an industrial heartbeat that pushes against Glacier's meditative vocals like gentle waves against a shoreline. When Sampha appears on "Ocean Steppin'," his honey-warm tones provide the perfect counterbalance to Glacier's cool detachment.
Critics have drawn comparisons to everyone from early M.I.A. to Dean Blunt, and while there are echoes of these influences, Glacier brings her own perspective to the table. Her music combines elements of trip-hop, UK drill, and electronic experimentation in ways that feel cohesive rather than scattered. It's the sound of someone who's absorbed a wide range of influences and found her own voice within them.
At just over 30 minutes, Like a Ribbon rewards repeat listens, revealing subtle details with each play. The album closes with "Heaven's Sent" and its cryptic phone conversation – like a conversation overheard on a night bus, or a dream that lingers after waking. It's a fitting conclusion for a project that embraces ambiguity rather than spelling everything out.
In an era of loudness and spectacle, Glacier has created something more measured and considered – a collection that draws listeners in through understatement rather than bombast. Like a Ribbon stands as one of the year's more intriguing debuts, proof that there's still plenty of space for thoughtful, personal expression in contemporary music.
Comments