Björk
Medúlla

THE REVIEW

Björk's mental surrealism has always fascinated me, but I have never completely loved this artist: I have unfortunately always remained on the fringes of her unreal world, attempting to embark on a spectrochemical quest to make the "enchanted frost" of her music my own. But always in vain.
A matter of sensitivity.

I then read, here and there, comments on "Medúlla" that had kept me away from listening. Because they spoke of a new album devoid of electronic arrangements, focused exclusively on the voice: a narcissistic album of self-celebration, refined, yes, but too contrived.

Imagining a Björk too glassy and solitary, I therefore expected a negative judgment on her new work.
Instead, it seemed to me complete, fascinating, and courageous, rich in nuances, enriched by the participation of Mike Patton - invisible and hypnotic, the otherworldly duet with the legendary Robert Wyatt, and above all, the contribution of the Iceland Choir, descending into a swirling and submerged atmosphere; there is a sensation of walking on tiptoes while being possessed by waves of vertigo.
The rest of the album is a truly subtle army of voices leading to atmospheres of devastating peace and profound restlessness, thanks to hints of sublime surrealism, typical essences of the Icelandic creature.

You feel in the nighttime cradle of thoughts, savoring the gentle travail of the soul that wanders rigidly in an incredulous vision. Like an animal that, stealthy, ventures into a bud of ultrasounds to encounter an imaginary unconscious.

It must be said, however, that the album was not liked by everyone and in general has divided opinions. Personally, I found it a delightful discovery, appreciated especially because it is pleasant to reconsider things, and it is a significant satisfaction to abandon the state of resignation to make room for genuine complacency.