Medulla is a masterpiece of vocal style and arrangement, combining Icelandic pop singer Bjork’s distinctive vocals with a mix of beat-box, choral singing, and a host of other speech elements. Medulla is the seventh album by Bjork, and was released in stores Aug. 31.
Nearly devoid of traditional and electronic instruments, Medulla is yet another stylistic transformation for Bjork. Since her emergence with the Sugarcubes, Bjork’s unique vocals have captivated her fans and generally bewildered the uninitiated. Fans will find much to love on Medulla, while those who have not yet sampled her music might do well to look at older releases, such as 1997’s Homogenic or 1995’s Post, for a more mainstream introduction.
From the first track, “Pleasure is All Mine”, you can tell there is something entirely different going on here. The song has an eerie, languid quality to it, combining a slow beat with vocal background phrases and Bjork’s haunting singing. The breath phrases (gasping, sighing, etc.) are perhaps the most striking, when you realize both what they are and how well they blend into the greater piece.
The single most impressive element, aside from the creative talent of Bjork herself, is the beat box, which is done by M.C. Rahzel of the Roots. He has an amazing ability to simulate a variety of percussive instruments, from a very deep bass drum to electronic snares. Songs such as “Where is the Line” and the album’s close “Triumph of A Heart” wonderfully showcase his abilities. The impressive thing is that, even knowing that the album had no instruments on it, it still took me several seconds to realize that the beats were not from a drum machine, such was their precision and integration.
“Who is it,” the sixth song on the album, is a more typical pop creation that could sneak its way onto one of Bjork’s mid-90s albums without much alteration. It has a light, airy feeling, packed with sound without feeling rushed or forced at all. Were Bjork the type of artist who got mainstream radio play, this would be her big single.
“Oceana,” one of the few tracks where electronic effects are used to an obvious extent, reflects its name with a trilling reverb on its background vocals that feels aquatic. The song was commissioned for the 2004 Olympics, and Bjork sang it at the opening ceremonies.
“Ancestors” is a track that, willingly or not, will burn itself into your brain. Layered underneath Bjork’s soaring vocals are guttural grunts, groans and breathing that remind one most directly of the rasping made by an emphysema patient. The combination of beauty and ugliness is surprisingly effective and stimulating.
The overall feel of this album is significantly affected by the lack of background instrumentation. The pacing, though similar to most of Bjork’s other work, swings from slow to fast and back again, sometimes even within one song. The balance between sound and silence is key, and on some tracks the lack of sound at intervals is nearly as important as the sounds themselves. The result is a primal experience, one that engages you far more than most studio albums. This is not an album you can use as background noise; it will demand your constant attention if you commit yourself to it.
It would be wrong to say that Medulla is not an album for everyone; there are certainly things here that anyone who likes vocal or choral music can appreciate. It is somewhat important to see it in its proper context, however, as the latest step in a long progression of musical innovation and creativity.
Many artists fall into unexpected pitfalls when attempting to retool their sound; Bjork does it on every album with great success each time.