Vulnicura had once again demonstrated Björk’s immeasurable talent, receiving critical acclaim upon its release for its emotional honesty, with many critics regarding it as her best album since Vespertine. It also saw Björk nominated for a Grammy for Best Alternative Music Album, losing out to Alabama Shakes’ Sound & Color, continuing her Grammy’s curse. She did win International Female Solo Artist at the 2016 Brit Awards, but Björk wasn’t there to receive the award as she was already busy working on her new album.
2016 saw Björk break new ground with the launch of Björk Digital, a virtual reality exhibit showcasing 360-degree VR music videos from Vulnicura. Björk Digital travelled the world, and Björk made history by appearing in the world’s first-ever virtual reality live stream broadcast on Youtube when performing in Tokyo. Björk had long proven herself as something of a technological master, keen to push the boundaries of how music is created and consumed. Björk Digital was simply another rung in the technological ladder, another creative bridge between human behaviour and technology.
Away from technological grandiosity, Björk was working hard on her new album, Utopia. Recording and performing Vulnicura had been a cathartic but draining experience, with Björk likening it to “hell”, while Utopia represented the light at the end of a very dark tunnel. Björk started by crafting melodies while out walking in her native Iceland, and the recording process saw her team up with the Venezuelan musician and producer Arca again. Arca had entered the picture relatively late in the recording process of Vulnicura, but this time they collaborated from the start. On working with Arca, Björk stated: “It’s the strongest musical relationship I’ve had”, a reflection of the duo’s synchronicity.
Tongue firmly bolted to cheek, Björk described Utopia as her “tinder album”, leading to a swirl of rumours. In reality, the statement reflected Björk being in a new place emotionally, free of the pain that drove Vulnicura, celebrating the possibilities of new love. Utopia can often suggest isolation, a fortress or sanctity from the real world and people, but Björk presents it as something wonderful and communal. Collecting mythological stories from around the globe, Björk noted what utopia represented to women, a place free of the binds of patriarchy, where women supported each other.
Such mythology influenced Utopia’s sound, with Björk reading stories where women stole flutes, breaking out from oppressive societies and forming utopias. The flute represented freedom, with air a conscious, stylistic choice, creating a lighter sound than the weighty Vulnicura. Björk formed a 12-piece, all-female Icelandic flute section, especially for Utopia, moving away from the complex string arrangements that had provided a welcome distraction when recording Vulnicura. Several tracks were bridged together by the sound of bird calls provided by Björk’s own field recordings and samples from Jean C. Roche’s album Oiseaux du Vénézuéla, one of her favourite records.
Clocking in at 71 minutes and 38 seconds, Utopia is Björk’s longest album; it’s intricate and detailed but never self-indulgent. A transcendent journey of discovery, Utopia celebrates new love, sparkling with optimism and a sense of wonder Björk hadn’t conveyed since Vespertine. The darkness of Vulnicura is lifted as Björk embraces the light, her lush arrangements sweeping across the record, encapsulating her newfound freedom. Arca’s sinister beats create an element of tension throughout, occasionally pulling you down, but ultimately love prevails. It’s Björk’s most avant-garde effort, embracing natural sounds, cultivating air and breath into something beautiful.
‘The Gate’ bridges Vulnicura and Utopia, Björk stepping through her wounds into a new world, open to new possibilities and ready to embrace new love. There’s a sense of awakening in ‘Arisen My Senses’, filled with tranquil bursts of explosion; Björk reclaims her sexuality, “Every cell in my body/Lined up for you”, the whole track throbbing with this urgent sensuality. ‘Body Memory’ furthers the idea of reclamation, as Björk wonders, “How to capture all this love”. The restless nine-minute epic encapsulates the key themes of the album with a humorous ode to nature (“These f*****g cliffs are just showing off”), a sense of exploration, and a biting comment on “farce-like patriarchy”. It serves as the antithesis of Vulnicura’s ‘Black Lake’, Björk analysing her fears one by one, primed for a fight.
New love isn’t easy, and Björk recognises that throughout, likening it to “threading an ocean through a needle” on ‘Body Memory’. The beautifully composed ‘Features Creatures’ sees her briefly struggling to move on, describing how old love entangles new, “goes to the same record stores/I literally think I’m five minutes away from love”. Contrastingly, the fragile and innocent ‘Blissing Me’ is a digital love song, referencing “two music nerds falling in love” and “sending each other MP3s”. ‘Courtship’ similarly explores love through a digital angle, with Björk trusting herself to “re-archive/My love historic stream”.
Musically, Arca’s explosive beats create a juxtaposition with Björk’s lush flute arrangements while mirroring the conflict of her sentiments. ‘Losss’ pits the serene sound of the harp against Arca and Rubil’s propelling, crackling beats as Björk battles between the past (“Loss of love, we have all suffered”) and future (“Recover, repair from loss”). On ‘Courtship’, Arca’s beats skitter beneath the bright sound of the flute, the contrast representing Björk’s eagerness to move on but the barriers which prevent her.
Amidst the positivity and optimism, the confrontational, defiant ‘Sue Me’ is a wonderful red herring as Björk refers to her custody battle with former partner Matthew Barney. But Björk powers her sentiments beyond the personal, singing, “I won’t denounce her origin”, her words becoming a wider defiance against patriarchy. Björk had started to delve into ancestry on the final track of Vulnicura, ‘Quicksand’, a theme she taps into again on ‘Tabula Rasa’. The song serves as something of a generational call, as Björk urges young people not to repeat “the f**k-ups of the fathers”, taking another stab at patriarchy in the process.
The final three tracks provide a blissful conclusion, the purely instrumental ‘Paradisia’ evoking the imagery of its title, and the matriarchal anthem ‘Saint’ is similarly transcendent. ‘Future Forever’ provides a fitting ending, Björk’s voice ascending to its highest point, floating above the shimmering synth chords. Björk leaves the record with messages of buoyant optimism, promising, “Your love is already waiting”, and encouraging you to let go, “Your past is on a loop, turn it off”. There’s a sense of closure; Björk is looking forward, ready to embrace life, the darkness of Vulnicura behind her.
Utopia encompasses all of Björk’s artistic talents, her voice bending around her arrangements with incredible elasticity, her partnership with Arca creating a thrilling sense of tension through its combinations of gritty beats and celestial instrumentation. The melodies may occasionally be elusive, but there’s a beauty that permeates the record, making it constantly enthralling. Björk’s wordplay is at its best, drifting from wonderful metaphors to direct statements, from powerful to playful. Celestially captivating, Utopia is the sound of reclamation.
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