Post by SofiaSurrenders on May 25, 2007 9:13:56 GMT -5
I found this article in Venuszine
Björk
Volta (Atlantic)
by Sam Scranton
Björk has been recording albums for almost 30 years. Her solo career alone has spanned close to 15. Most bands, even successful ones that accumulate large fan bases, dissolve or cease to be relevant in half that time. So why, aside from the viral marketing campaign that preceded Volta's release, would one feel excitement at the prospect of a new Björk album? Because she chooses her friends and collaborators well.
It is not an insult to say that Björk’s relevance is due to her ability to fuse her voice and identity with a constantly flowing cast of youthful collaborators. She, like Miles Davis, is a curator of contemporary talent. She adorns her albums with others' ideas and sounds and makes better albums for it. On Debut, she worked with Massive Attack. On Post, it was Tricky. She went on to work with Thom Yorke, Matmos, Rahzel, and others, all during the height of their creativity.
Like Björk’s other releases, Volta boasts a cast plucked from the zeitgeist of cool: production by Timbaland, distorted perpetual motion by Konono No. 1, intimate warbling vocals by Antony Hegarty, and bass-drum assault courtesy of Brian Chippendale. Unfortunately, their contributions appear as they do on paper — a list of names. On "Earth Intruders," Konono No. 1's most audible presence is reduced to a three-second sample, which completely robs them of their vitality and raison d'être. They exist to play 12-minute jams of distorted repetition! Here they are a name-drop, a piece in a collection or menagerie. The same goes for Brian Chippendale. Why put him on an album other than to annihilate the audience? Instead Björk assigns him a bland tom-heavy beat on “The Dull Flame of Desire” that could be attributed to anyone.
Volta is more a catalogue of unspent potential than it is an album. It feels almost content-less, and certainly lazy. Björk caricatures herself. “Innocence” could be “Big Time Sensuality”, “My Juvenile” could be “Cocoon”. She sings her large lazy melodies that hover over everything, which in the past has worked to great effect and could again if her vocals floated over carefully constructed songs. But her tunes are held together with cheap brass arrangements and layers upon layers of her vocals. And for an album that according to Björk in an interview was supposed to “get rhythmic again” and construct a “universal tribal beat”, there are a lot of down tempo ballads and only two potential party starters.
If Björk were as smart as Miles Davis (or as smart as she has been on past albums), she would let her assembled performers do their thing, and then contribute a couple notes of her growly bombast to the mix and call it an album, which probably would have been an amazing long-player. Where else but on a Björk album do Antony Hegarty and Chris Corsano, or Brian Chippendale and Toumani Diabate occupy the same space? Hopefully on her next album, Björk will take advantage of her curatorial skills rather than squander them.
Björk
Volta (Atlantic)
by Sam Scranton
Björk has been recording albums for almost 30 years. Her solo career alone has spanned close to 15. Most bands, even successful ones that accumulate large fan bases, dissolve or cease to be relevant in half that time. So why, aside from the viral marketing campaign that preceded Volta's release, would one feel excitement at the prospect of a new Björk album? Because she chooses her friends and collaborators well.
It is not an insult to say that Björk’s relevance is due to her ability to fuse her voice and identity with a constantly flowing cast of youthful collaborators. She, like Miles Davis, is a curator of contemporary talent. She adorns her albums with others' ideas and sounds and makes better albums for it. On Debut, she worked with Massive Attack. On Post, it was Tricky. She went on to work with Thom Yorke, Matmos, Rahzel, and others, all during the height of their creativity.
Like Björk’s other releases, Volta boasts a cast plucked from the zeitgeist of cool: production by Timbaland, distorted perpetual motion by Konono No. 1, intimate warbling vocals by Antony Hegarty, and bass-drum assault courtesy of Brian Chippendale. Unfortunately, their contributions appear as they do on paper — a list of names. On "Earth Intruders," Konono No. 1's most audible presence is reduced to a three-second sample, which completely robs them of their vitality and raison d'être. They exist to play 12-minute jams of distorted repetition! Here they are a name-drop, a piece in a collection or menagerie. The same goes for Brian Chippendale. Why put him on an album other than to annihilate the audience? Instead Björk assigns him a bland tom-heavy beat on “The Dull Flame of Desire” that could be attributed to anyone.
Volta is more a catalogue of unspent potential than it is an album. It feels almost content-less, and certainly lazy. Björk caricatures herself. “Innocence” could be “Big Time Sensuality”, “My Juvenile” could be “Cocoon”. She sings her large lazy melodies that hover over everything, which in the past has worked to great effect and could again if her vocals floated over carefully constructed songs. But her tunes are held together with cheap brass arrangements and layers upon layers of her vocals. And for an album that according to Björk in an interview was supposed to “get rhythmic again” and construct a “universal tribal beat”, there are a lot of down tempo ballads and only two potential party starters.
If Björk were as smart as Miles Davis (or as smart as she has been on past albums), she would let her assembled performers do their thing, and then contribute a couple notes of her growly bombast to the mix and call it an album, which probably would have been an amazing long-player. Where else but on a Björk album do Antony Hegarty and Chris Corsano, or Brian Chippendale and Toumani Diabate occupy the same space? Hopefully on her next album, Björk will take advantage of her curatorial skills rather than squander them.