Although her flamboyant outfits have never been polite, Björk's past few albums certainly have been. The ice-crystal percussion and melodies on Vespertine were stunning but mannered, like an immaculately decorated parlor, while the nearly a cappella Medulla—an album in which beatboxing and throat-singing replaced traditional instrumentation—felt too gimmicky and academic. But Björk's gleeful sense of adventure is back on Volta, perhaps thanks to her rediscovery of rhythm. Collaborators such as Timbaland, Lightning Bolt's Brian Chippendale, the African band Konono No. 1, and a 10-piece Icelandic brass choir make Volta's songs leap to life—from the going-to-battle anxiety of the cinematic, marching "Vertebrae by Vertebrae," to fireworks-esque programming on a triumphant "Wanderlust," to the outer-space-drum-circle driving the bumpy carousel whirl "Earth Intruders." The slow-burning highlight "Declare Independence" sounds downright dangerous, with bleating beats and thundering synths short-circuiting around Björk as she screams, with more unabashed emotion than she's let loose in years, Raise your flag! Declare independence! Don't let them do that to you!
Still, those hoping for a carbon copy of Post or Homogenic will be somewhat disappointed: Volta's songs are ornate, but lack brevity and a willingness to conform to traditional pop structure—meaning that some songs run for too long and have all the impact of a melting icicle. But the big difference is that Björk sounds comfortable in her creative skin again on Volta, with a nonchalance that allows her beautiful quirkiness to burst forth joyfully.