ICELAND’S rare bird of art song, Björk, describes Utopia as her ‘Tinder album’ — a dating inspired collection which would be a delicious prospect under any circumstances, even if it didn’t come on the heels of 2015’s majestically bleak Vulnicura, a record of raw, fiery, anguish grappling with her break-up from artist Matthew Barney.
Afew years on, the pendulum in her heart swings back the other way among luxurious electronic-symphonic music high on head-rushes of love, sex and discovery.
After dark Vulnicura, and amid gloomy Trumpian times, Björk and her go-to producer Arca have fun and reach towards the light.
Opener Arisen My Senses sets the scene beautifully with harp trills and dreamy synthesiser eruptions so lush you’ll practically want to lie down in them. Against more chiming harps and tangential beats on Blissing Me, Björk sings of ‘two music nerds obsessing’ by text, hinting cryptically at new romance unfurling. The title track is like a wander through an enchanted forest, replete with real bird song.
Melodies, much less choruses, don’t exactly leap out in a not-always-focused 71-minute album. But it rather suits Utopia’s sense of exploration and dreamy abandon.
Think of Utopia as a little headphone paradise to get lost in — an escapist gift to the world at the end of a turbulent year.
