Medulla by Bjork

Bjork has said she finds her best, most loved music has been the songs she was selfish in making. On her latest, the Icelandic chanteuse has cast out even the instruments. Bjork's seventh album, Medulla, which refers to the spinal cord in Latin, gets to the heart of the marrow, so to speak. The singer has pared away nearly all but the voices -- hers and those of backing choirs and vocalists. But this largely a cappella performance is no Bobby McFerrin record. The sound is otherworldly. Bjork croons above layers of mixed and unmixed vocals and the background of two choirs: a soaring, angelic one, and a deep, baritone chorus that could easily double as the voice of God or a cranky whale.Bjork's voice, it must be said, in its wild, unpredictable fluctuations of soaring soprano and devastating frankness, is one of few that deserve such a spotlight.There are moments when her voice melds on top of the others, building into a frenzy of sound. The best example of this is Mouths Cradle, which is paced by a "glug, glug" sample of what might as well be the emptying of a bottle of water. Speaking of water, the first single from the disc is Oceania, a tune Bjork crafted for the Olympics opening ceremony. It is a bizarre, watery song of jumbled waves of vocal samples. When Bjork performed the song in Athens, she wore an ice blue gown that flowed out like water -- reminiscent in its uniqueness to the infamous swan dress she wore to the Oscars in 2001. On this conglomeration, it makes sense that even Rahzel of the Roots shows up. For years, Rahzel's imitation of a DJ mixing has been making hip-hop fans exclaim, "That's his voice?" Still, it is easy to miss the usual dichotomy of Bjork's past albums, with fierce electronics swirling around her unbridled energy. It is no coincidence that the most exciting tracks here, Where Is the Line and Who Is It, both contain more percussion and instrumentation than the others. Though Medulla may not be as dynamic as Bjork's past albums, the minimalist sound is undeniably beautiful. -J. Cole

BLACK MAGIC

If Bob Marley is reggae's king, Jimmy Cliff is its prince. The veteran Jamaican singer has the royal lineage. He started his career in the early '60s ska scene in Kingston while still a teenager and has grown along with the music through its many permutations. On Black Magic, Cliff shows he's as relevant as ever to reggae.

 

His supple voice sounds right at home with contemporary backing tracks that owe much to modern dancehall and hip-hop. Cliff's voice is light and sweet, similar to the rocksteady crooners of his roots like Desmond Dekker and Dennis Brown. He flavours this with teasing falsetto touches, like a Jamaican Al Green. Cliff brandishes his vocal weapons on Love Comes, the album's best cut. He growls, coos, hollers, whispers his way over a thumping beat. Black Magic has almost total electronic instrumentation. Synths beep and swish while drum machines pulse in the kinetic tempo of dancehall, Jamaica's answer to Top 40 hip-hop. But it never crowds out Cliff, whose voice remains strong in the mix. Some famous guests chime in, including Sting, Annie Lennox, Wyclef Jean and the late Joe Strummer, who died in 2002 (Cliff has been working on the album since 1999). They are relegated mostly to the background, save Jean's prominent rap on Dance. Jimmy Cliff is the show on Black Magic, and he remains as energetic as the reggae rebel of his youth -- never out of tune or out of style.-Marc Donahue.

Mind, Body & Soul

Oh, what feeling there is during Mind, Body & Soul, Joss Stone's follow-up to her debut EP, a compilation of soulful covers. The not-so-pop singer finds the emotional climax in every song on the 14-track disc. Her husky voice is both eloquent and vulnerable, more Taylor Dane than Mariah Carey. And Stone's vocal acrobatics are intentional, not showy. This -- combined with her honest lyrics -- creates an atmosphere of authenticity. Mind, Body & Soul recalls '70s soul, but it isn't a trip to the past. There are musical and lyrical traces of 2004 from sleek R&B beats to gratuitous iPod references. You Had Me, the most upbeat track on the CD, is a sassy disco-ish rallying call against a moocher and a scumbag, probably best played while dizzyingly tossing your ex's stuff out the nearest window. A plucky harp adds another dimension to Snakes and Ladders. Less is More is hypnotic, infused with reggae rhythms and a sturdy chorus. The oh-so-mature lyrics beat anything an American Idol could conjure. Probably because Stone is English. She chants about love and vodka, which is surprising considering she's only 17. But with behind-the-scenes help from soulster Betty Wright and her own mum, Stone is free to travel outside PG-13 territory. However, Stone lyrically skips during faint but frequent references to stone. You know, rocks. That's right, Stone tell us in song that she's "not made of stone" and doesn't want "no stones outside my window." It's a trite reminder that Stone has room to grow. The sheer power of her voice and command of it make such small mistakes forgivable. During the opening track, she croons, "I might be singing out of key, but it sure feels good to me." Well, she isn't singing out of key. And it doesn't feel good. It's feels great.-D. Lang

DURAN DURAN'S ASTRONAUT

More than 20 years since Duran Duran released a full studio album, the original band returns with the sound that made them famous: catchy, simple anthems and harmonies over driving dance grooves and slick electronic sounds. The album is a swath of effects-layered, slow- to mid-tempo songs, ranging from radio-friendly pop anthems like leadoff single Sunrise to more groovy and disco-influenced numbers like Nice, which recall the group's early '80s work on Rio. That said, Astronaut is not exactly a return to roots -- at least four tracks feel so contemporary, they would sound at home on a Jamiroquai or Backstreet Boys album. After guitarist Andy Taylor and drummer John Taylor (no relation) left the group at its peak of popularity in 1985, the band's ensuing releases mostly lacked the tight feel of a full band involved in the writing process. But on Astronaut, Duran Duran sounds more like the cohesive unit that delivered driving yet danceable tunes like Girls On Film and Planet Earth. Tensions over how hard their sound should be appear resolved, with Andy Taylor indulging in few solos and little distortion. There's little experimentation; they play to their strengths. And singer Simon Le Bon's vocals are in great form, even if his lyrics remain light in the depth department. Among the strongest songs are Sunrise, featuring drum work that echoes Girls On Film, and What Happens Tomorrow, another catchy rocker with soaring vocals reminiscent of the 1993 hit Ordinary World. Nice is perhaps the best of the bunch. Bassist John Taylor drives this disco number, which casts Le Bon in his familiar seducer role: `"Take the beautiful sting of a Scorpio / A careless smile and it begins to snow / And it hurts me to think that you might never know / That I've got this thing about you."