Vulnicura is very personal; Bjork's vulnerability is shown from the first few lines. Although she has stated that the writing process was a way of dealing with the end of an important relationship, there are no songs of the sad kind you would expect to come from such a process.
The landscapes are intimate - string arrangements on top of minimalist electronic drums supporting the vocals. This helps to do what Bjork does best, which is put herself as a relatable person into her music more honestly and passionately than most. She shows us the versatility of her chosen instrumentation to communicate less definite moods than we are accustomed to. Tracks like 'Lionsong' are sad, hopeful and hopeless to varying degrees throughout. Every song defies any simple categorization, not unusual for a Bjork record, but something mesmerising is going on through later tracks like 'Black Lake' and 'Family', where the frontiers of what can make a pop song are being pushed. All the songs are accessible, and yet none conform to any pop standard; they are at the edges of what constitutes accessible tension and release. Vulnicura has been stripped back to the bone and now that a record like this has been released, the future becomes very exciting.
