If there’s one thing you can always count on from Björk, it’s that she’ll never take the easy route. Medúlla is one of her most fascinatingly bizarre albums—an almost entirely vocal-driven experiment where the usual lush instrumentation is stripped away in favor of layered human voices, beatboxing, and choral arrangements. The result is an album that feels primal, futuristic, and at times, downright unsettling. Tracks like Where Is the Line and Mouth’s Cradle push the boundaries of what a song even is, while Who Is It and Triumph of a Heart bring in enough structure to keep things from feeling completely unhinged. It’s weird, challenging, and often beautiful, but definitely not an easy listen. The genius of Medúlla is in its textures—Björk turns voices into rhythm, harmony, and even noise, creating an album that feels both deeply human and strangely alien. At times, though, it can feel more like an art project than a fully realized album. The absence of traditional instruments makes some moments feel hollow, and while the vocal experimentation is impressive, it can also be overwhelming, like listening to an avant-garde a cappella group trapped in an echo chamber. It’s ambitious, but not always something you want to put on. Still, you have to admire the sheer audacity of Medúlla. It’s not Björk’s most accessible work, but it might be one of her most daring. It’s an album that sounds like it was made in a world where instruments don’t exist—just voices, breath, and raw emotion. Whether that makes it a masterpiece or a fascinating misstep depends entirely on how much you’re willing to let Björk drag you into her strange, otherworldly vision.