BJORK Vinilo y CD

Review: The tenth studio album by Bjork, released in early 2023, hears the Icelandic singer include increasingly conceptual approaches to making music, a trend which has continued at least since the mid-point of her career at large. Fossora is a concept album about the life cycle of fungi, exploring themes of decay, regeneration, symbiosis and transformation. With cameos from El Guincho and Arca, as well as vocal contributions from Sindri Eldon, isadora Bjarkardottir Barney and the Hamrahlid Choir, it's an ethereal, organic-surreal foray into darkroot gardens and moonlit quasi-fungal butterflies, and the perfect follow-up to the album released five years prior, Utopia.

Review: Nominated for a Grammy Award upon release, Bjork's tenth studio album was a true masterpiece and proved that the Icelandic enigma is far from out of ideas. Aesthetically - both in terms of the visuals and music itself - it's surreal and rich, and this 2023 version adds more to the brew, with additional vocals and extra effects on three of the tracks, including an appearance by her daughter, I?sado?ra Bjarkardo?ttir Barney, and bonus production on 'Ovule'.
Those who missed it first time should know this is one of her least compromising outings - if not the least compromising record she's ever done. Centring on two main sources of inspiration, bass clarinet and gabber music (up there with the most Bjork ideas you've ever heard), despite what that sounds like the LP is all mayhem, warehouse parties and weird woodwind accents. A thing of resolute beauty and visionary ideas, again, our only advice is to take a listen rather than let some writer attempt to explain what's here.

Review: "Another Bjork album?!" cry the naysayers. But little do they know they've been duped into thinking the Icelandic legend's last full-length, Utopia, was a recent affair. Actually, it's already been a good five years since the singer's flowery flabbergaster, and collab with experimentalists Arca and Doon Kanda, came to be. Fossora, by contrast, is a much more mournful LP: it's a meditation on generations, and was in part inspired by the death of Bjork's mother. It also contains collaborations with her two children, Sindri and isadora. A homelier affair, revisiting Bjork's upbringing in Iceland, on which she hadn't reflected on record since she was 16.

Review: In interviews promoting Fossora, her tenth album, Bjork joked that it started life as "her Clarinet album" - a nod to the set's extensive (and sometimes experimental) use of regular and bass clarinet instrumentation. Really, though, it's her lockdown album, and one partly inspired by the grief she felt following the passing of her mother in 2018. In many ways it's an astonishing set, with the Icelandic artist adding her own distinctive lyrics and vocals - still effortlessly emotional and addictive after all these years - to tracks that brilliantly fuse, mix and mangle red-lined tribal drums, fuzzy IDM style electronics, brass band arrangements, jazz instrumentation and, on the inspired title track, increasingly intense, break-neck dancefloor rhythms that tend towards the gabber end of the spectrum. Unusual, entertaining and utterly beguiling; it's another brilliant album from a genuine one-off.