The Norwegian solo artist, Jenny Hval has returned with her sixth and most testing album to date. The second album to be released via Sacred Bones Records, Blood Bitch is an exploration into themes of blood – in a natural, mythical and fictional sense – all leading to an album that is a gothic masterclass, something that would make Angela Carter swoon and simultaneously an anthropological study of the female body. Within Blood Bitch’s press release, Hval explained that the album is "an investigation of blood. Blood that is shed naturally. The white and red toilet roll chain which ties together the virgins, the whores, the mothers, the witches, the dreamers, and the lovers.”

Hval has always been inclined to make sociological comments that open up the body of our society and dig out the crux of what makes you, you and me, me. On last year’s Apocalypse, girl, within ‘Take Care Of Yourself’ Jenny questioned the role of gender:

What is it to take care of yourself?
Getting paid?
Getting laid?
Getting married?
Getting pregnant?
Fighting for visibility in your market?
Realising your potential?
Being healthy, being clean, not making a fool of yourself, not hurting yourself?
Shaving in all the right places?

Therefore, when reading the press release for Blood Bitch, it came as no real surprise that Jenny wanted to continue probing.

The natural blood – menstruation, is something perceived as a taboo subject in popular culture. Regardless of this fact, in a similar way to Fat White Family, Meatraffle and Cabbage – the taboo is becoming an important and exciting notion to question. Hval puts the taboo under various studies. ’Period Piece’ suggests “It’s only blood” and ‘Untamed Region’ states “There’s blood on the bed / Didn’t know it was time yet” – there’s a naivety to the manner in which the subject is treat. It’s less knowing and more unknowing which acts as the perfect metaphor behind the enigmatic musical tapestry.

Musically, Blood Bitch is a woozy comedown; songs move from the opener ‘Ritual Awakening’ to the album’s closer, ‘Lorna’ without feeling too much like the song has changed. This is nothing against the album, in fact it makes it all the more intriguing to hear – the songs each carry a narrative embedded within the musicality. Each one, with a different tone, ushers a new emotion. The groove flows effortlessly from one track to the next within a calm mist of electronics and motorik rhythms.

‘Ritual Awakening’ is a dirge of dense Scandinavian soundscapes, the bass hits you with brutish undertones before Jenny’s icy voice cuts through the centre. In a glacial fashion, Jenny oozes: “I clutch my phone / With my sweaty palm.” From here we fall into ‘Female Vampire’, the previously released single from the album carries a glacial synth trance with it. It’s the type of song that will cement itself at dawn after all-night parties. Her voice floats throughout, hovering delicately above Berlin-sounding electronics, giving some sense of optimism within the darkness burrowed beneath.

‘In The Red’ hovers along behind ‘Female Vampire’, Jenny’s panting breath draws the new track in – an anxious gasp that explodes into a siren. It’s evocative of deep human emotions, bringing about panic and terror as Jenny states, “It hurts, everywhere” leaving you wondering what hurts, where? The next track, ‘Conceptual Romance’ is a blissful song with a light that isolates the previous track in its own terrifying two-minute hole. ‘Untamed Religion’ feels like a cast-off from Radiohead’s Kid A sessions with dreary keyboard samples that run under gliding vocals. Deeply embedded within the beauty, the message is arguably more vivid than anywhere else on the album, thus making beauty Jenny’s strongest form of empowerment:

I dip my finger in it
Smells like, um, warm winter
And I feel the need to touch everything
Everything in this room

‘The Great Undressing’ lays forth a conversation between Jenny and her friend. They discuss the theme of Jenny’s album – “It’s about female vampires – It’s so basic!” – the irony is obvious, however this conversation highlights the innocence Jenny tucks between themes and conversations. Dizzying swirls of 90s nostalgia run underneath the music, perhaps highlighting its debt to the recently-closed club, Fabric.

‘The Plague’ is a six-minute track that cuts through the electronic horizon with Latin-influenced percussion. Whilst adding to the eeriness of the album, Jenny shows musical intuition as well as thematic and lyrical. It’s a startlingly rich track to listen to. Musically it bends between experimentations of The Velvet Underground and The Asteroid No. 4; conversations scream and uncanny voices hide behind corners as Jenny reaches to the far ends of experimentation.

‘The Secret Touch’ and ‘Lorna’ close the album, they bring in a cooler sensibility and lighter listen than elsewhere. ‘Lorna’ introduces horrific keyboard sequencing, terrifying in their nature. With connotations to The Exorcist, Jenny asks as many questions as she answers, closing the album with: “Can we find it?”

Blood Bitch is an intense listen. It is claustrophobic, conjuring images of Jenny recording the entire album within the cupboard under her stairs. Scratching at walls, yelling voices and the scribbling of pencils bring about real paranoia but it is an exceptional listen. Hard to absorb in one complete go, many songs require re-listenings to understand the angle and sentiment within. When taken in complete context though, the conversation is vital.
Tom Churchill

Website: jennyhval.com
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