On “Vespertine,” she combines delicate choral arrangements, harp, music box and strings with computer-generated static and metallic clinks and clanks. On one song she even uses the sampled crunch of footsteps in snow for rhythm. It’s also her most intimate album to date. She professes her love for a boy with “magical sensitivity” in skyscraping croons and private, under-the-covers whispers. Later, she decides she must keep her deep feelings in a “hidden place,” but eventually busts out with the defiant mantra “I love him. I love him.” Bjork also grapples with a world that is far less enchanting than her Technicolor imagination. “How do I master the perfect day? Six glasses of water, seven phone calls? If you leave it alone, it might just happen anyway.” While many world-weary artists have stopped hoping for that day and now sing of the fallout, Bjork happily searches for that perfect bloom.
Bjork’Vespertine’ Electra
