Vespertine

Right from the start there was something otherworldly about Björk’s music, from that astonishing first Sugarcubes’ single onwards. And what you can say, amongst other things, about Vespertine is that it is… well… very Björk.

Few artists have created such an individual musical signature over recent years. Not just because of that voice, but the whole sound that she manages to create is full of personality.

The vibe this time out is very lush minimalist. The thumping dance beats of yore are less in evidence, the technology here being used to underpin, rather than dominate, the music. A rash of sounds and effects bubble throughout, at times harsh and mechanical, at times warm and human, giving the album a quiet, spatial feel. Contrast is provided by the very organic stings and massed, almost choral, vocals that arrive to fill the all too frequent gaps.

The singer herself fades in and out of view, her voice spending much of the record as just another instrument, blending into the background – often to the point of becoming inaudible. There’s much talk of ‘hidden places’ and ‘secrets’ and at times the sound levels are so quiet that they seem to disappear into the speakers.

All of which make the moments when Björk does cut loose more special. ‘It’s Not Up To You’ is typical of the album – mumbling and burbling verses that explode into a sweeping, elegant chorus. ‘Pagan Poetry’ – despite the title – is the clearest reminder of what she’s capable of at her best, and how potent a weapon her voice is; vibrant, powerful and strangely sexy. As the track builds to a crescendo, a multi-tracked singer coos “she loves him” over and over, akin to some sort of bizarre version of The Ronnettes.

Too often, though, those peaks fail to materialise and what’s left sounds a little more like random jottings that seems intended. There’s so much more to Björk than the big dresses, funny accent and eccentric outbursts, it’s a shame that Vespertine only offers glimpses. What’s most noticeable about the album is its distinct lack of hooks, of memorable melodies: that makes it less than instant, though it could prove to be a grower.

Fans of Kid A, Sigur Rós and Meredith Monk will love it, those who drifted into Björk through ‘Big Time Sensuality’ and ‘It’s Oh So Quiet’ will be less sure what to make of it. “It’s not meant to be a struggle”, Björk sings on ‘Undo’. That’s the problem with Verspertine; at times it is. A worthy one in parts, but a struggle nonetheless.