It's about imagination and dreams. About surrendering all concept of song structure, of all that's gone before at the door and stepping into a limitless space where harps, Eskimo choirs and powerbooks provide the soundtrack. You don't have to have to have a dead swan draped around your shoulders to be there, but it might help.
This is 'Vespertine,' the latest instalment in the adventures of Bjork, wherein we find our hero deeply loved up. After the harrowing dress-eating experience of playing a half-blind peasant who gets hanged, in the light-on-laughs 'Dancer In The Dark,' it's a relief to hear her happy and, well, a little bit saucy again.
Much of 'Vespertine' sees Bjork emoting over clicks and whirrs courtesy of Matmos, this time the duo laying off the liposuction samples that made their 'To Cut Is To Cure' long player a little too unsettling. With an average bpm count of around 4, the nearest things get to a groove is the ode-to-fate 'It's Not Up To You', the dub-lite chill of 'Unison' and lead single 'Hidden Place.' Sadly the latter's not about hiding frozen fish behind your ex's radiator or sofa - instead it's possibly the most immediately welcoming thing on offer.
Elsewhere, on tracks like 'Cocoon,' it's like you've invaded Bjork singing to herself about her fella whilst doing the dishes. Towards the end of the stately palace of plinks and plonks of 'Pagan Poetry', she sums up the album, exhorting: "I love him! I love him!" Other tracks sound like they were written entirely on music-boxes, such as the balletic vignette 'Frosti,' the EE Cummings-inspired 'Sun In My Mouth' and the Harmony Korine co-written 'Harm Of Will'.
Bjork, being one for releasing half her albums as singles, 'Vespertine' will unfold, making sense as time wears on. It's an intimate, involving album that
sounds at its best from beneath a duvet with a tactile friend. Dive in. It's unlikely you'll hear anything as near to perfect, magical and downright lovely all year.
by Ian Wade