August 30, 2004 by A.S. Van Dorston

Through no fault of her own, Björk has been teetering on the path towards becoming a mainstream diva. Despite the fact that her music of the past eleven years (20 if you count her lesser known work with post-punkers Kukl) is far more challenging than your average pop music, she has become somewhat of a celebrity due to her powerful personality and presence on film and awards shows. One could imagine drag queens transferring their campy impersonations from Barbara Streisand and Cher to Björk. While she may hold nothing against camp, consider Medulla as a tactical move of keeping this elfish’s queen’s material out of the cabarets.

Initially intended to be a dense, bombastic cacophony of orchestras and odd instruments, Björk, decided Medulla’s songs were better left stripped down to primarily the voice. She often skirts around accessible pop melodies, aiming for disorientating twists rather than comforting hooks. There are exceptions, such as the chorus on “Who Is It” which could fit onto older albums. Elsewhere, temptations to sing along are often thwarted by alien-sounding scales and Icelandic lyrics. It’s fitting that she duets with Robert Wyatt on “Submarine” (which sounds, oddly enough, like TV on the Radio’s deconstructed doo-wop). Wyatt made a career out of mastering fragile, beautiful music far outside the radar of mainstream accessibility. Other guests include gothic sounding choirs, Inuit singers, Mike Patton (Mr. Bungle/Fantomas), human beatboxers The Roots’ Rahzel and Dokaka, who’s guttural throat-singing sounds like an injured muppet monster under your bed on “Ancestors.” Rather than whimisical, Björk’s minor key and atonal experimentations with breath and voice are as frightening and challenging as anything by the wicked Diamanda Galas.

If all but the most die-hard fans are scared off, those who put on some headphones and give it a chance are rewarded with surprisingly rich details. Aside from the unaccompanied acapella of “Show Me Forgiveness,” this album is densely layered, with pleasurable production by Matmos, who assist with a few well-placed keyboard lines. Vocals are creatively multi-tracked, building upon previous accomplishments by avant-global artists like Sheila Chandra (1996’s ABoneCroneDrone) and Sussan Deyhim (1997’s Majoun). At times the multiple voices can cause goosebumps as they tickle and massage. As is the risk with pushing boundaries, not every experiment will resonate. But the success rate is definitely high.

The true star of Medulla is Björk’s powerful vocals. Tales of her toppling men three times her size like trees in vodka drinking contests sound like urban/Icelandic myth-making. But the sheer hot headed power of her vocals shows a woman comfortable in excess, making believable the superpowers of this diminutive woman of Viking stock. It’s easy to imagine, after the downfall of the pop divas, Madonna, Britney, Janet and Christina forced to live together in a reality show as bored audiences wait for them to make out or expose themselves, while drag queens around the world lampoon them. Meanwhile, Björk will be one of the last women standing, proudly, continuing to break ground and blow away expectations.