I did a press thing with Björk back in the 1990s. I asked her if she ever got lonely. Her reply was something along the lines of having to break herself down at the end of every day so she could start the following day rebuilding herself afresh.
The reply impressed me, but the one thing that stayed with me about my encounter with Björk was the smell of the room. It was a normal room with a normal smell... but I remember the smell. Musty carpet, perhaps, mixed with the plastic of my press pass.
Utopia (One Little Indian) is filled with woodwind instruments and forest feels, a frenzy of flutes and fauna. There are no big hits, no great moments of enlightenment. But with Arca on production duties, the strength of Utopia is the sensory side-effects that stay with you longer: the shimmering echoes, the humanity of the instruments, the aroma of the woodlands the album evokes.
Basically, it's well top and good.
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