Bjork - Volta

Genre rock Publisher Atlantic Records External Links Official Bjork Website Official Atlantic Records Website

Oh, BYERK, it is so very good to hear from you again! With the opening drumbeats and muddy bootstomps of "Earth Intruders," intrigue ran roughshod through my bloodstream, stirring up dormant feelings that I hadn't felt since "Army of Me." And with her first "uh-huh-ya-a-ah" I realized that if she ever released a full-length chronological CD of all her vocal orgasms, I'd pay a slick 100 bucks to own it. This is how hot Bjork still is (at 41, good lord!) and her newest album, Volta, exhibits all of her youthful energy and shares loads of life-long-earned wisdom.

Melodic and sweet in countless instances, Volta reminds the listener of how much Bjork has grown. Her familial love can appear both morbid and beautiful, much like Keith Richards inhaling his father's ashes (true or not, an amazing idea, one that WILL be copied). Among raindrop xylophones, "I See Who You Are" is a gorgeous tribute to her daughter, reveling in the full bloom of life, hugging her close, while still considering the inevitability of their future corpses. Bjork lets her child know that regardless of where they are, the bond exists, that it will always be recognized, far deeper than skin. She sings to her son as well in "My Juvenile," apologizing for the way she pushed him into the world. Was it cold, she worries? She comforts herself with the aid of Antony Hegarty's voice, understanding that she helped forge his independence, knowing how valuable self-reliance is. Plus, honestly, could you imagine not getting enough love and care from Bjork, the mom? Impossible.

In addition to her touching missives, Bjork returns to the aggressive vigor that was so prevalent in Debut and Post in such songs as the aforementioned "Intruders" and "Declare Independence" which make strong statements about not giving in to slavish nationalism. To do so results in "CARnage! TURMOIL!" with howling winds of terror bombing down from above. Bjork's solution? One big nation, a single tribe of humans, marching together. How this doesn't lead to another form of blind, wholesale unity is something I'd have to ask her myself. Don't worry, I'd be quite careful in case of a whirling, Icelandic attack. I've seen video of her beating down that Thai reporter too many times not to be prepared. "Declare" presents a more individualistic view, barking commands to make yourself a true army of one, with your own loyalties, symbols, and ideas. It's got that tremendous angry synthetic bass growl that you might remember from "Pluto," and with building rage and power, and with a unceasing, POUNDING Smash-Your-Fist-Into-A-Side-Of-Beef drumbeat, it's the sonic equivalent of someone hard-slapping your face to wake you up, to get you excited. "Innocence" follows suit with a gut-crushing, sucker-punch loop and matching staccato stanzas of how naivety can be completely relative. Our innocence can never be lost. Rather, our perspective is simply changed. One man's ceiling is another man's floor. Our ceiling just happens to be cracking, spilling plaster dust on us because of that innovative and life-lusting woman upstairs, jumping and dancing. Bless her.