Vulnicura marks
another weird and wonderful chapter in the eccentric Icelandic singer’s
discography. I tried googling a definition of the album title but couldn’t find
anything. Where does Bjork come up with these names?
Her last record Biophilia
was one of her most avante-garde so far, delving into genres as bizarre as
breakcore. At first, I though Vulnicura
may be a step into tamer, more straightforward territory. However, whilst the
first songs certainly suggest this, the album swiftly goes off on an
experimental tangent dropping the verse-chorus-verse-chorus structure entirely
for an unpredictable ride through musical hinterland.
This is definitely one of Bjork’s most emotional works.
Fueled by her recent breakup she exchanges catchiness and bounciness for a slow
pensiveness. Sadness works best with good old-fashioned violins, and so it
makes sense that the instrumentals here are all primarily made out of string
sections. Accompanying these strings are juddery, electronic drums, similar to the
percussion on her previous releases. It’s clear to see where modern artists like FKA
Twigs get their ideas.
Often the slowness drags this album down, particularly on
the ten minute ballad ‘Black Lake’. There are periods of the song in which a
single string note is seemingly stretched out for eternity, during which I could
feel myself ageing.
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| Me during 'Black Lake' |
Fortunately, the pace seems to improve after this track. ‘Family’, although sluggish at first, goes through multiple progressions. It starts with
eerie cinematic percussion (which I wasn’t surprised to learn was produced by
The Haxan Cloak), before breaking into rapid dissonant plucked strings and then finally climaxing with a soothing ambient section. Bjork’s voice sounds bleak and
distraught on this track and it’s definitely the most powerful track on the
album. The hairs rose on the back of my neck and tears threatened to run down
my cheeks at points.
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| Me during 'Family' |
This song and several of the tracks afterwards, particularly
‘Atom Dance’ and ‘Quicksand’, are definite peaks that spice up the landscape of
the album. The remainder is a bit glacial. The icy atmosphere is spectacular
but the slowness is painful. Bjork’s choice to sacrifice catchiness is also a
shame. I’d like to see myself returning to this record simply for its ability
to tug on the heartstrings. Were all the tracks as dynamic as ‘Family’, this
could have been a masterpiece.
★★★☆☆