Björk is an idiosyncratic generational talent whose legacy in avant-pop music solidified over a decade ago. Despite this, excluding the poignant Vulnicura, the albums that have followed Medúlla have been underwhelming. Utopia was disappointing after her return to form in Vulnicura. The album is not horrible, but it tends to meander far too often and does little to justify its run time. Björk's latest album, Fossora, is darker, heavier, and, most importantly, significantly better. Fossora is not a straight-up slam dunk like Vulnicura, but it is a clear level above the rest of Björk's post-Medúlla discography, and like most of what she does, it only could have been made by her.
The flutes of Utopia are traded for bass clarinets, though shades of the shortcomings of that album still show up. It is a little funny that Björk sings of "excuses to not connect" while feeling somewhat disjointed from her surroundings on the album opener, "Atopos." Her performance, like in parts of Utopia, feels a bit unresolved. The song lacks the synergy that is typically present in much of Björk's work. "Atopos" is the worst track of the album, and thankfully, it is not a good indicator of the quality of Fossora as a whole.
The second track, "Ovule," is a big step up in quality. The song will not win back those who want Björk to return to her more melodically straight-ahead days, but its decidedly off-kilter structure is fascinating. The looping trombones and voices sound like an excerpt from an eccentric symphony. Björk and the instrumentation never completely coalesce, and the juxtaposition is mesmerizing. She enlists her son Sindri Eldon for another gem, "Ancestress", a folky, ritualistic tribute to her late mother. The pride and grief are palpable, and how the track shifts from bells to pizzicato and eventually strongly bowed strings is remarkable. "Sorrowful Soil" also eulogizes her mother, and while it is not as grand, it is a nice surprise. The track has an intimate, Medúlla-ish focus on vocals. The vocal arrangements are lovely - it's as if Björk and a brilliant choir are singing directly to the listener in a church.
Fossora comes further into its own in its second half, but there is one exception to this in "Allow." The song is pretty, but it feels like (and technically is) a Utopia outtake, and its airy flutes feel out of place on this album. The track that precedes “Allow,” “Victimhood,” has an intricate dance of clarinets that is much more absorbing. Björk's beautifully subdued performance in the cavernous atmosphere of "Victimhood" makes the song an album highlight. Björk and guest singer serpentwithfeet are fantastic in the playful, orchestral environment of "Fungal City," which devolves into a frantic pounding beat. "Freefall," which features a somber string quintet, is sparse in comparison but no less effective. Björk powerfully rising to a crescendo with the backing of gorgeous strings is one of the most potent moments of Fossora.
The assertive title track may be the most show-stopping tune of Fossora. "Fossora" has a bombastic second half that is even more rapid than the eruption towards the end of "Trölla-Gabba," a thrilling mix of voice and electronics that appears two tracks prior. The final song, "Her Mother's House," abandons this force entirely for more serene pastures. Björk sings alongside her daughter, Ísadóra, who has an enchanting tone worthy of sharing the stage with her mother. Touching reflections on mother/daughterhood and Björk and Ísadóra's ethereal interplay make “Her Mother’s House” the most tender song of the album.
Fossora has stellar songs, but as a whole, it is not on the same level as Björk's best work; however, since Homogenic and Vespertine are two of the best albums of their respective decades, that is a very high bar. A good portion of the album is arguably not what one may call “accessible music,” and it will likely be divisive to some extent, but considering everything Björk has released since Vespertine, that is no shock. There are a lot of things going on musically and emotionally - celebration, love, self-pity, and mourning, to name a few, and most of it is compelling. Fossora is an intriguing, often spellbinding album; a great, adventurous work by a one-of-a-kind artist who refuses to rest on her laurels.
The second track, "Ovule," is a big step up in quality. The song will not win back those who want Björk to return to her more melodically straight-ahead days, but its decidedly off-kilter structure is fascinating. The looping trombones and voices sound like an excerpt from an eccentric symphony. Björk and the instrumentation never completely coalesce, and the juxtaposition is mesmerizing. She enlists her son Sindri Eldon for another gem, "Ancestress", a folky, ritualistic tribute to her late mother. The pride and grief are palpable, and how the track shifts from bells to pizzicato and eventually strongly bowed strings is remarkable. "Sorrowful Soil" also eulogizes her mother, and while it is not as grand, it is a nice surprise. The track has an intimate, Medúlla-ish focus on vocals. The vocal arrangements are lovely - it's as if Björk and a brilliant choir are singing directly to the listener in a church.
Fossora comes further into its own in its second half, but there is one exception to this in "Allow." The song is pretty, but it feels like (and technically is) a Utopia outtake, and its airy flutes feel out of place on this album. The track that precedes “Allow,” “Victimhood,” has an intricate dance of clarinets that is much more absorbing. Björk's beautifully subdued performance in the cavernous atmosphere of "Victimhood" makes the song an album highlight. Björk and guest singer serpentwithfeet are fantastic in the playful, orchestral environment of "Fungal City," which devolves into a frantic pounding beat. "Freefall," which features a somber string quintet, is sparse in comparison but no less effective. Björk powerfully rising to a crescendo with the backing of gorgeous strings is one of the most potent moments of Fossora.
The assertive title track may be the most show-stopping tune of Fossora. "Fossora" has a bombastic second half that is even more rapid than the eruption towards the end of "Trölla-Gabba," a thrilling mix of voice and electronics that appears two tracks prior. The final song, "Her Mother's House," abandons this force entirely for more serene pastures. Björk sings alongside her daughter, Ísadóra, who has an enchanting tone worthy of sharing the stage with her mother. Touching reflections on mother/daughterhood and Björk and Ísadóra's ethereal interplay make “Her Mother’s House” the most tender song of the album.
Fossora has stellar songs, but as a whole, it is not on the same level as Björk's best work; however, since Homogenic and Vespertine are two of the best albums of their respective decades, that is a very high bar. A good portion of the album is arguably not what one may call “accessible music,” and it will likely be divisive to some extent, but considering everything Björk has released since Vespertine, that is no shock. There are a lot of things going on musically and emotionally - celebration, love, self-pity, and mourning, to name a few, and most of it is compelling. Fossora is an intriguing, often spellbinding album; a great, adventurous work by a one-of-a-kind artist who refuses to rest on her laurels.
