It was a much-anticipated comeback - borrowing the term from K-Pop lingo - that of Kim Yuna, the lead singer of the cult rock band JAURIM. Released on April 25, the album Tales of Sensuality (“관능소설 “) is nothing short of a mesmerising listening experience.

In the ten tracks of the album, Kim Yuna’s crystalline voice casts a spell that guides the listener into the meanders of a forbidden garden, an intimate place throbbing with lived stories and, as the title announced, erotic suggestions. It’s a real musical journey, where each genre takes us to a different place and time.

Despite such versatility, however, the album never lacks cohesion: the star of every scene is always the singer's unmistakable voice. Crystalline and eclectic, with its clean diction it soars softly in the traditional-sounding ballads, becomes playful in some of the duets, and gets just the right amount of grit when the tune calls for it. Plus, the sound mixing and mastering have a depth and clarity that make for a sultry listening experience.

The 50-year-old singer-songwriter has released 11 band albums and four solo albums since her debut with the band JAURIM in 1997. In a recent interview, Kim Yuna described Tales of Sensuality’s content as “erotic and life history at the same time". Indeed, even before one ventures into reading the lyrics of each song, the music alone conveys the experience and the maturity of a woman who explores sensuality with grace and confidence.

The songs of “Tales of Sensuality”

The opening track is a duet with singer-songwriter Kim Feel, titled “Carmelia” (“카멜리아”): perhaps the less immediate song of the bunch, a stratified one, it’s an interweaving of voices that at times are in strong juxtaposition, other times are blending seamlessly, as they express the longing for a forlorn love. Something about it would make you think of a show tune in the style of  The Phantom of the Opera.

Right after we find “An End” (“종언”), a solo ballad on the fugacity of love, imbued in elegance and highly lyrical like the rest of the album. It’s interesting to note how the music video adds to the timelessness of the song with black and white cinematography and a vintage 4:3 frame.

The third track is “Am I wrong for wanting you?” (“행복을 바라는 게 잘못인가요”), a depiction of unrequited love in which Kim Yuna’s singing becomes fervent, as that of a woman yearning for the love and the touch of the man who escapes her.

The pace speeds up in “Scent” (“체취”), the fourth song of the album that quickly blooms into a zesty jazz tune, while Kim Yuna sings with a perky attitude, telling us that she doesn’t care if a man is tall, handsome or rich, what she can’t resist is a man who smells good - even panting to the rhythm of the music.

“La Vie Rosée” (“장밋빛 인생”) is the French-style tango whose execution confirms what the title alludes to: in Kim’s vocalization we might detect a little of Edith Piaf's frown, although this “La Vie Rosée” has more spice than “La vie en rose.”

There’s a surprise for all K-Dramas lovers out there in the following track, “An Average Man” (“평범한 남자”): did you know that one of the bona fide villains of our favourite TV shows, actor Bek Hyunjin (백현진) is a multi-hyphenate artist (also composer, performance artist, and film director)? In this duet about two people in love, he acts the lyrics more than singing them, in a Lou Reed-esque style, while she gets playful and a bit coy in response. A musical act in its own right!

We find yet another duet with a man immediately after: “U”, featuring YI SUNGYOL (이승열) sounds like a splash in the ‘90s, and depicts the complicity about two friends who have known each other for a long time, hinting at a more intimate relationship in the past.

The eighth track is “The garden of adverbs” (“부사의 정원”). In the rarefied atmosphere of this duet, Kim Yuna pairs up with another of the best female voices in Korea, Lee Hi’s. Each of them could blast incredible vocals, but they entice the listener as each adverb they list works as a light brush stroke that slowly adds new detail to the poetic depiction of the passion between two lovers.

Birds chirping on the notes of a whimsical flute: it’s the deceiving frame of “Happy Ending” (“해피엔딩”). It’s a bittersweet song about a woman who is living a normal Sunday, smiling when she holds her kid’s hand, and doing her chores, but also having a hard time holding back the tears: she’s enduring the pain, but is also ready to start anew.

With the last song of the album, “Last Scene” (“마지막 장면”) we’re transported to Spain: the flamenco guitar leads the way with its sorrowful tremolo that echoes the desolation of a woman who interrogates herself about a love that ended up being less meaningful that what she thought, and left her feeling lonely.

We’d say that Tales of Sensuality is a record that demands your attention when listening, not so much the kind you can keep as the background music when you’re otherwise occupied: it deserves to be lived as an immersive, contemplative experience.