In Music: The Taming of Björk

Plus: Keren Ann and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

By Graham Webster and Alexander M. Belenky
Tuesday May 8, 2007

Björk
Volta
Released: May 8 (Atlantic)

Dozens of critics, from the Associated Press to Yeshiva University’s The Commentator to the New Straits Times in Malaysia, have described Björk or her music as “other-worldly.” With the opening track of Volta, she comes right out and admits it: “We are the Earth intruders; we are the sharp-shooters.” Great. Not only is she an alien, she’s a sniper. We’re all screwed.

But Volta, Björk’s seventh wide-release album and her first since 2004’s a cappella creation Medúlla, is decidedly Earth-bound. Despite the lyrical theme of “Earth Intruders,” the brutal backbeat of “Innocence,” and the Aphex Twin-style scream-fest “Declare Independence,” most of the album is intimate and cinematic in the tradition of Selmasongs, the 2000 soundtrack for “Dancer in the Dark,” which starred Björk herself.

The tracks that make up the balance of the album are indeed the earthiest sounds we’ve ever heard from Björk. The second track “Wanderlust” begins with an intricately constructed nighttime harbor scene. Any seventh grade band teacher would recognize the sound of fascinated horn players discovering just how low their instruments can play—and how much they sound like fog horns. The sound gets more and more ethereal until it picks up into the soaring, driving sounds familiar to Björk fans. Before the song is over, it falls to bits among a rainstorm of Morse code.

Björk’s goal with Volta may be to bring together the disparate sounds from throughout her long career. Debut made use of 1993’s latest in synthesizers and digital sequencing (“Human Behavior” contains an unmistakable element of the Korg Wavestation), but the album still sounded like a woman, if an exceedingly interesting woman, singing. Post (1995) contained a cabaret-style treatment in “It’s Oh So Quiet,” among heavy industrical sounds. Homogenic (1997) and Vespertine (2001) were perhaps the most “other-worldly” of her releases. And the vocal textures of Medúlla seemed to argue that humans could be just about as weird as any alien. Individual songs on Volta seem to have loyalties spread throughout these 15 years of musical development.

If anything, by combining her most extra terrestrial sounds to date with vivid representations of familiar musical elements and natural sound-scapes, Björk reminds us that even humanity’s best efforts at imagination are made by us. Even an other-worldly pop star is a real person, a working musician.
Indeed, the most alien sounds on this album were created in collaboration with one of pop’s most prominent producers. If “Innocence” has a beat that recalls Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back” (and it does), that’s because Timbaland produced both tracks. (He also produced “Earth Intruders” and the quiet highlight of the album, “Hope.”)

Ultimately, like almost everything Björk touches, Volta is jarring at first but becomes addictive soon after. And hopefully, once and for all, this journalistic slurring of her as an alien will come to an end. Near the end of the record, she chants, “Declare independence! Don’t let them do that to you,” deriding the “damn colonists”—or is it “columnists.” You show ‘em!

—Graham Webster


Keren Ann
Keren Ann
Released: May 8 (Blue Note)

Keren Ann’s new, self-titled release can almost be considered a concept album, concerned more with sonic experimentation than with cohesive songwriting. The human warmth of the French-Israeli chanteuse’s acoustic guitar and fragile voice are offset by the cool artificiality of sampled hand claps. Traditional, verse-chorus-verse compositions devolve without warning into abstract soundscapes of layered, monosyllabic vocals. There’s even a quasi-electro track that features an old-school kick-and-snare beat over an analog bass line—definitely not what you’d expect to hear in your neighborhood coffee shop.

Such unconventional songwriting is characteristic of Keren Ann. Her 2003 album, Not Going Anywhere (her third release and first in English), featured sweet yet quirky tunes that employed everything from ukulele to French horns and timpani. The title track from 2004’s Nolita was a minimalist opus, clocking in at a decidedly radio-unfriendly seven minutes. It’s not exactly catchy, but it’s mesmerizing nevertheless.

The best songs on Keren Ann walk this razor-thin line, managing to captivate listeners rather than make them hit fast-forward. “Where No Endings End” is a haunting ballad. “Lay Your Head Down” and “In Your Back,” both standouts, recall the lazy pop of Mazzy Star. But when Keren Ann turns up the volume, things start to come apart. Her sultry purr on “It Ain’t No Crime” is inviting, but her squealing electric guitar is not. And that electro track would surely clear any dance floor. That’s the problem with concept albums: No matter how creative they are, they’re almost always a mixed bag.

—Alexander M. Belenky


Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
Baby 81
Released: May 1 (RCA)

Baby 81, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s fourth album, is something of a comeback. Named after the infant survivor of the 2004 tsunami who was eventually reunited with his parents, it features the return of drummer Nick Jago, who split with the group near the end of that year, reportedly because of a drug problem. In his absence, the three-piece’s remaining members detoured from the shoe-gazing rock of their first two releases and recorded Howl, a largely acoustic—and surprisingly good—folk- and blues-inspired album. With Jago on board again, however, BRMC have plugged their guitars back in, dusted off their fuzz boxes and delay pedals, and gone back to cranking out the rock ‘n’ roll.

Fans of U.K. bands like The Stone Roses and The Jesus and Mary Chain will still recognize those influences on Baby 81. But this album, like Howl, is a product of the United States. “American X” and “Weapon of Choice” can be read as critiques of the Bush administration and the “war on terrorism.” Bluesy guitar riffs form the backbone of a number of songs, including “666 Conducer” and the album opener “Took Out a Loan,” which actually had their genesis in the Howl recording sessions. More so than the moody epics, these tracks have the attitude-filled swagger befitting the band’s name.

—Alexander M. Belenky

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