Björk is master of her domain. She controls her music in a way that breeds chaos from her surroundings.
In that way, Medulla is laden with self-righteousness.
Case in point: “Sonnet/Unrealities XI”, mit unnecessarily melodramatic title, carries the theme of the album as well as any. In “Desired Constellation”, pungent arrogance sours the air with the lyric: “how am i going to make it right?” replete with theft of the “All Is Full of Love” note.
Beyond this, there are two major components to this charmingly minimal(ist?) album.
Her voice: SOS.
Computerized Pseudo-muzik: Feels like every time they ran it through the mixing board, it ended up more ridiculous than what they just had.
All of the massive rhythms and melodies of her previous albums get vaporized on Medulla. This soundscape is always light, even when dark. It’s delicate and cloudy, just like we’d expect.
The direction that this album foreshadows is, ahem, impossible to predict, and Björk is probably aware of that. She’s teetering on the edge of unpredictability in the music world, and she knew she had to get in a stripped-bare album before she lost her mind.
The good and bad thing about being in her position is that a lot of people will use this for therapy as much as she will.
Despite this pressure, Björk defeats the drama with über-drama: her anti-drama. She teases to the point of hormonal imbalance, but remains dignified.
This is her Paris Hilton/naked-just-because album;
She may even start charging for the videos.