Just try finding something as simple as a straight rhyme on Björk's Vespertine - go ahead, just try it. You won't find one until the twelfth and final number, "Unison," an autobiographical tune that's clearly the exclamation point on her mythology of positivism. Musically, though, it's as beguiling as the rest of the album, built on a sample by German sound manipulator Oval and made up of melodic minimalist electronics as avante as anything the "pop" world has seen, even beyond any envelope the Icelandic chanteuse has previously pushed. In collaborators Matmos, Matthew Herbert and Console's Martin Gretschmann, Björk has found laptop magicians whose programming is as ready for perfect-world jukeboxes and futuristic jazz clubs as it is for Whitney Museum exhibits. Mixing in Zeena Parkins' harp along with choir and string arrangements only furthers the collision of tradition and innovation in Björk's tunes - more tone-folk poems for a new millennium than anything else, with their sexually-charged free verses and background digitalia intricately designed to seem accidental. Listening to Vespertine is an enveloping experience, full of chance-taking and inherent hope; it's certainly not for the faint (or dubious) of heart. "If you wake up/ And your day feels broken/ Just lean into the crack…" Björk cheerfully advises on "It's Not Up To You." If you're unwilling to heed that simple logic, this is not for you.

Save This Page

Digg This!