Bjork - 'Medulla' (One Little Indian)
5/5
By: Kevin Molloy
No. This album is simply not of these times; there is something in it too incredibly huge to be contained in any era, or inside your head. It hasn't outgrown genres; it probably created them at the beginning of time, and will nurture them 'til the day of judgement. Rahzel's beatbox sends the LP spiralling into the future, whilst Björk's incredible throaty growls, sensual sighs and purest tone heave your heart back to some innate, prehistoric time.
It's just a little bit good.
So, just to bring you up to speed, if you're not already there: 'Medúlla' is the album of Björk's life (to date). The LP relies almost entirely upon her voice, and friends, but not in a barbershop or Bobby McFerrin way, oh no, no, no. These friends are the stuff of musical wet dreams. The aforementioned Rahzel, of The Roots and how-the-f**k-can-anyone-do-that fame is complemented by Mike Patton's dizzying vocal abilities, both taking backing and lead roles over Björk's crafted compositions. Oh, and the Icelandic Choir.
In many ways, it's not worth trying to separate 'Medúlla' into separate tracks... test us: you will never be able to play only part of this album. Hot dates will wait, plane check-in times may fly (literally) to the winds - if you sit down to one track you're drawn inexorably into the euphoric whole. There's something irresistibly plaintive in the vocals; you can't resist the girl. She draws you in - you cling to this emotional oracle, this divine inspiration, her whispering tones soothe you with a vocal maelstrom. You will frequently glance over your shoulder, certain that somebody in the room has started talking to you - so disarming is the honesty in the vocal. And then there's the almost childlike innocence to those dulcet tones, matched against the searingly sexual gasps of 'Ancestors'.
Ancestors certainly seem to bear relevance here, as there's a sound to the entirety you can only describe as 'medieval'. It's achieved partly by the use of the choir, and partly through Björk tapping her very innermost reserves of emotion as she sets your hair on end in primeval delight. You can't shake the feeling that you're in the darkest part of undiscovered Europe, in an arching cathedral-shaped cave. Björk's voice shifts with effortless ease from the spirit whispering into your ear, to the wail of a distant siren, filtered through a gloomy, ruined labyrinth. When she sings in her home-language you get close to what Tolkien once tried to describe in the beauty of the language of the elves - Icelandic has rested relatively unchanged for hundreds of years, but only now has it found a voice to make it truly timeless.
There's much more we could tell you, but we could never do a work this seminal its full justice. 'Medúlla' truly is, as the closer would have it, a 'triumph of the heart'. It has the enormity of Creation and Doomsday, but it's really your salvation.
Artists in this article: Bjork
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