CD of The Week

The second decade of Björk's prestigious solo career has been less about topping herself and more about finding new means through which to deliver her message. Whether that was through soundtracking and starring in a lavish Lars Von Trier musical (Dancer in the Dark), constructing pop music entirely out of vocals (the underrated Medulla) or cavorting with high-profile collaborators like Timbaland and Antony Hegarty (the overblown Volta), what she has had to say has become less of a focal point with each release than how she said it. Her records were becoming easy to admire, but harder to love. When news of the expansive and ambitious Biophilia project started leaking--iPad apps for each song, newly invented instruments, what exactly is a gameleste?--one couldn't be blamed for thinking that she had descended even further down the rabbit hole of her indulgences.

How ironic then that the most interesting thing about Biophilia is the thing that few people are talking about. This is her most intimate, comfortable and cohesive album since 2001's Vespertine. It's also her starkest and most somber since Dancer, perhaps even since high watermark Homogenic, the echoes of which can be heard in the erupting electronics of single "Crystalline" and climactic standout "Mutual Core." Elsewhere, those new instruments (whatever they are) help paint a subtle but spacious canvas over which Björk lets her peerless siren wails loose in a way more natural and cathartic than she has in years. The accompaniments most often resemble the harmonium backings of classic goth chanteuse Nico, particularly on "Thunderbolt." Elsewhere, "Sacrifice" recalls the arctic synthscapes of Swedish haunted house duo The Knife, themselves obvious descendants of the Icelandic iconoclast. She even manages to redeem some of the pomp and circumstance of Volta via opener "Moon" and the horn led "Cosmonogy," which just begs for Antony to come back for another duet.

Biophilia isn't perfect. The dirge-like "Dark Matter" and aptly titled "Hollow" kill the album's momentum somewhat by being positioned right in the center. However, this is the first time in a decade that the admittedly impressive packaging of Björk's songs isn't the most rewarding part of the experience. She may never release another Homogenic or Post, and that's okay now that she's proven again that she can wield the emotional punch of the former and the sonic playfulness of the latter. She will always be interesting. Now we've been reminded that she can still be good. Great, even.