Ah, Bjork. Even if you're not familiar with her music, chances are you know her name. Perhaps you remember her furious on-camera attack of a reporter in 1996, or her bizarre swan dress from the 2001 Oscars. Because of her pixie-like persona and eccentric behavior, Bjork has remained in the world media spotlight for over a decade now. But what is often forgotten in this obsessive fascination is that Bjork is first and foremost a musical innovator of the highest caliber, challenging any and all conventions while pushing the boundaries of what popular music can be.
So, thankfully, Bjork returns the focus to her music with her fifth proper album, "Medulla," another wholly original and consequently outstanding collection of songs. This time around, she has decided that instruments are outdated and unnecessary. Thus, excluding a few programmed beats and keyboards, every sound on "Medulla" is made with a human voice. This technique makes use of Bjork's three greatest assets as an artist: her ability to enlist top-notch collaborative talent, her penchant for sonic experimentation, and her positively mind-blowing voice.
Bjork's voice, as always, takes center stage here, but in a more powerful way than ever before. The absence of traditional instrumentation leaves a world of sonic space for exploration, and Bjork takes full advantage. Her voice builds, collapses and echoes, as if bouncing around the walls of an empty room. Her melodies are complex and not always easily discernable, but through repeated listens they emerge from within the multiple vocal tracks of the album.
The rest of "Medulla's" vocals come from a host of notable collaborators, including the Roots' Rahzel, famed Japanese beatboxer Dokaka and choirs from both England and Iceland. These vocalists provide the backbone for Bjork's melodies, and their talents are utilized to the utmost. Bass-heavy vocal beats are layered and computer-altered to provide driving rhythm, while swells of choral melodies eerily mimic and augment Bjork's vocals. The result is an a cappella album that sounds remarkably full and instrumental, while still exploring new sounds.
Lyrically, Bjork is as obtuse as ever. She sings two songs in her native Icelandic, using her powerful voice to convey meaning and emotion. And despite her incomplete grasp of the English language, she remains a master of creating evocative imagery through remarkably poetic lyrics. On the album's lead single "Oceania," Bjork takes on the role of the ocean, watching sadly as her children evolve and leave her to live on land ("You have done good for yourselves"). And in the spectacular "Desired Constellation," she wails "How am I going to make it right?" as various sparse beats and vocal echoes build behind her. It is a heartbreaking moment, and a high point of the album.
If there is a fault with "Medulla," it lies in its occasionally excessive sacrifice of form for experimentation. This is best exemplified in "Ancestors," the album's least accessible track. The song is Bjork at her most impressionistic, consisting of various incoherent vocal samples by Bjork and Tagaq. This collage of sound is backed by a sparse piano line, and a rhythm track that sounds like a dog dying of an asthma attack. A delicate melody does become evident for anyone patient enough to listen for it, but to those unfamiliar with Bjork's work it sounds pretentious and virtually unlistenable. This is probably not the album for first time Bjork listeners, who might want to try her earlier, more conventional work to get accustomed to her unique sound.
Like all of Bjork's albums, "Medulla" is completely and thoroughly her. And that is what makes it truly great. Listening to the vocals, lyrics and arrangements, one gets the sense that no artist in the world could have done this but Bjork. In an era of prepackaged pop singers and formulaic songwriting, an artist so steadfastly committed to originality is a rare and precious thing. The fact that she makes great pop music in the process is just a bonus.