Björk in my ears is a multisensory experience

I was reminded today of the existence of Björk's "Debut". I use the quotes partly because it's a title, but also because it was only a title. It was Björk's first foray into solo artistry since leaving the sugarcubes, but already had the startlingly disco "Björk" in 1977 (no, really) and 1990's Gling-Gló under her belt, to say nothing of the albums she did with the Sugarcubes, and also with KUKL.

So it wasn't in the traditional sense, a debut. But as Björk drawing a line under everything that had gone on before, and declaring, albeit subtly, that this was something new. And it was. Looking back, it makes total sense, with how her career has gone since then.

If you're recommending Björk to a first-time listener, whichever of her styles you prefer, or want to impress upon the listener, it's likely to be something from after 1992. You might recommend the earlier stuff as further listening, to someone who has already delved into Björk's catalogue, or you might even recommend one of the albums on its own merit, though that's still unlikely to be in the context of "this will give you an idea what Björk is about".

I actually got into Björk because of the singles on Debut, and then, particularly Play Dead. The first single I bought was Army of Me. It was the CD single with b-sides rather than remixes. Army of Me is terrifying. It wasn't at all what I expected, and I didn't really like it. Not a great start. The b-sides were Cover Me, You've Been Flirting Again, and Sweet Intuition. They're all songs that I adore now, and have a special connection to, as this EP was where I really became a fan.

They're all quite sparse and disjointed, which is definitely part of their charm, but which at first confused me. It also intrigued me: here was someone using elements I recognised, in combinations that I didn't (like the pretty dresses and doc martens, that were soon a thing), and that forced me to re-assess what was acceptable in music.

It didn't feel like it at the time, but that last statement was pretty fucking huge. I've listened to a lot of music, and there is no shortage of artists who've influenced what I make, and how I make it. Björk though, kind of opened a door and asked "have you seen what's through here?".

So the first album I actually heard was Post. I didn't get it immediately it came out. I wasn't yet a devout fanboy. I'd dipped my toe in the water and it felt fine, but I was still getting my head round Army of Me. It took Hyperballad to get me properly on board. I loved that its name was a description rather than a name. I was/is exactly that. A ballad, with a bonkers beat over it. I was still only becoming aware of the potential of orchestral strings over an electronic beat, and Hyperballad caught me at just the right time.

I got Post in the ltd edition digipak version. Again I was confused. I already knew I loved Hyperballad, and I was growing to like Army of Me. It was also nice to hear an English version of You've been flirting again, but a lot of the rest of the album left me utterly bewildered. I resolved to come back to it and try again, and went and got distracted with George Michael and Radiohead.

Some months later, having neglected to try Post again, I was in HMV, and they had the then brand-new Homogenic, on a listening post. I popped on the impressively robust cans and dove in. By the end of the track, I had decided I was having the ltd edition digipak again. getting it home and finding that Hunter is followed immediately by Jóga, reassured me completely that my impulse buy was definitely going to have been worthwhile.

The instrumentation on Homogenic is predominantly strings over electronic beats, mostly provided by Mark Bell of LFO (who I just learned is from my home town. Yay!). It was while she was touring this album that I first got to see her live. The entire set was just Björk, Mark Bell, and the Icelandic String Octet. My mind was blown.

Ever since then, I've been pretty completist about her stuff, working back and getting the stuff that cam out before I was properly aware of her (hence finally hearing Debut after both Post and Homogenic.

I haven't really kept up with the last few albums, and I'm still not really sure what scared me off, I'll get round to it some time. But from Debut to the Live Box, I've got pretty much every b-side and remix, and I know that stuff really well because I've listened to it to death...but not for a while.

It's always a pleasure to go back revisit an artist you love, and hear them through ears that have been changed by experience, since last they were host to this album, or that EP.

So today I listened to Debut, and then Post, and now I'm on Homogenic. What struck me is that listening to each, you get a kind of mental image of the artist as a character. Like, what was she experiencing to write these songs? The first album's overall feel is summed up in the title of the album's one cover - "Like Someone in Love". The whole album is the excitement and optimism about a new love, the feeling of boundless joy, as everything feels to fall into place, and anything seems possible.

Debut closes with The Anchor Song, which is quite bittersweet in tone, and the imagery is of sinking to the dark depths and making it home. It's not dark as such, it's a contended voice that sings it, but one which is maybe a little more resigned than the boisterous, energetic voice of a few songs ago, a little more melancholy than the voice accompanying the harp on the jazz standard.

So the angry, pounding, unrelenting power of Army of Me, when played right after Debut, makes you sit up and take notice. This is no longer the happy-go-lucky protagonist of the first adventure, it's the confident, no-shit-taking superhero that is going to guide us through her bonkers breakup recovery methods. It's glorious, such a contrast to Debut. It's more mature on every level - complexity of songs, themes, lyrics, music, production. Björk was in control, and getting stronger for it.

It was that contrast that made me want to write today. I could go on, dissecting each album, listing all the amazing b-sides that are virtually unknown, but Just hearing these albums again made me want to share the story of how Björk lit a fire in me.

The Storm

A couple of weeks ago there was a storm. When I heard the first thunder, I was out in the garden, enjoying the sunshine. I set my phone to record, and sat in the shelter watching the rain.

The storm lasted just under half an hour, and I determined that I would use the recording on a tune. I’d intended to chop it into bits, and use them as intros and outros to a collection of tunes. Then I listened back to the storm, and decided instead to leave it in one piece, and just work around it with some synths.

I went through about 100 synths, playing around with notes, chords, arpeggiators, twiddly knobs, pedals, until I had about 15 that I either really liked, or thought would make interesting white noise, or that sounded like anything from Tron or Blade Runner.

I recorded random bits of melody, and odd chords, at various points throughout the storm, then gradually added bits in between. After some editing, which I found really methodical and soothing, I had something that was starting to sound coherent.

I will most likely end up adding more to it at some point, or playing about with the levels, but as a first draft, I think is ready.

I’ll warn you now though, it’s actually half an hour long, so, you know, I won’t be offended if it’s not for you.

P4

Why don't we know everything yet?

Neil DeGrasse Tyson said:

"As I galaxy-gaze through time upon their diversity of colors, shapes, sizes, brightnesses, and structural detail, the boundary between knowledge and ignorance calls to me. When I reach for the edge of the universe, I do it knowing that along some paths of cosmic discovery, there are times when, at least for now, one must be content to love the questions themselves"

In attempting to answer life's questions, we inevitably reach a point where we can't find answers, and all that we have is speculation. The more we learn, the more we hypothesise; the more we test and prove those hypotheses, the more questions we answer, and the more new questions present themselves. With each iteration we have greater knowledge on which to base our speculation, but always there remain things we don't know. 

Through accepting this, and through constantly learning, and correcting earlier assumptions, I have concluded that there are three things which must be the foundation for my journey along the mortal coil:

1. Everything I believe might be wrong.

2. I believe what I believe based on evidence, and will change those beliefs if presented with evidence which compels me to.

3. Anything can be explained by science. Anything for which humans don't have an explanation, it is because humans don't yet have sufficient understanding of the science involved.

It's not uncommon to assume that anything which we can't prove scientifically cannot be proven. In fact, based on what we know thus far, it's likely that anything which truly exists can be proven by applying the scientific method - we simply don't yet have sufficient understanding to apply it. 

Everything we know - the full extent of human knowledge, has taken thousands of years to accumulate. It's also all based on data we have either acquired on or very near to earth, or which is millions of years old. There's so much of the universe that we haven't even seen yet. And what we have seen probably looks vastly different now, as the light it gives off takes so long to reach us. Many of the answers may depend on concepts that don't even exist in our corner of the universe, or that we simply aren't yet able to comprehend. 

Carl Sagan said:

"The sky calls to us. If we do not destroy ourselves, we will one day venture to the stars"

We've evolved all the way from amino acids in primordial soup to thinking, feeling, space-faring, sentients, but we still have a long way to go. The answers are all out there. By the time we run out of questions we may have evolved so far as to be unrecognisable as the descendants of these "ugly bags of mostly water".

It's the questions that will lead us there. It's the questions that will continue driving us to improve, to explore, to discover. We don't know everything yet. Maybe we never will. But we can learn to love the questions. And maybe we can be content with knowing enough to not destroy ourselves.