Welcome back to “No Skips,” where I’ll be continuing and concluding my coverage of my favorite Icelandic music, because I only know of two notable music artists from there. Whether that’s a reflection of me or the small country these acts hail from, you can be the judge, but today, I’ll be discussing the iconic Björk Guðmundsdóttir, or simply, Björk. I’m partly calling her “iconic” in jest, though her consistent output across three to four decades now has done more than make her an icon.
I wrestled with myself about which of her records to cover: The pristine “Vespertine” would be an undertaking, along with “Homogenic.” Both are so blissful and advanced for their time at the turn of the century that if Daft Punk were the kings of electronic music, then she was the queen. “Debut” isn’t lauded as much as her newer works, so part of me wanted to praise that effort for jump-starting her solo career, but what about her sophomore record “Post” from 1995? I’m only writing about one of these four records, but all of them lack any skippable tracks in my opinion. However, “Post” may be the most impressive record in achieving this feat because of how much she experiments throughout its 11 songs.
While her status as a singer had been solidified by timeless songs including “Venus as a Boy” years prior, nothing would prepare her audience for the smorgasbord of styles she tried on “Post,” all of which stuck the landing.
From the jump, “Army of Me” proves the record won’t be a direct follow-up to her previous album; if anything, it bolsters the rebellious attitude of her work with The Sugarcubes. It samples the outro track of Led Zeppelin’s fourth record, adding more of a punch to the drums in “post” production, and it’s somehow her most popular song on Spotify. In a way, Björk has proven to be a force to be reckoned with concerning the media, so the one-woman army has completed her self-fulfilling prophecy originating from this song.
The jumpy “Hyperballad” lives up to its name, except the ballad happens in the first three minutes as it progresses to a house-inspired track after that. You can’t deny it sounds like the song from SpongeBob SquarePants episode “Krab Borg” around the fourth minute — minus the violins — which are a welcome addition. If someone were to throw me on the dance floor to “Hyperballad” after the fourth minute, I’d be dancing like Mr. Krabs, too.
“The Modern Things” features bilingual lyrics as Björk delves deeper into the digital delight that is this album’s soundscape…so far. The song ends by looping her vocals as if stuck in the groove of a vinyl record, like in the final seconds of The Beatles’ “A Day in the Life.” I promise I know more songs from them than that one.
“It’s Oh So Quiet” completely changes the tone, drawing from the big band movement and not living up to its name like “Hyperballad.” Björk juxtaposes short sections of serenity, shushing the listener before exploding in pitch as the band follows suit: “You blow a fuse / Zing, boom.” The song has grown in well-deserved popularity over time, as it was the music to multiple commercials during the 2020s.
“Enjoy” is often interrupted by sudden bursts of trumpet and has a gritty atmosphere with defiant vocals. The experimental hip-hop feel, as there’s no rapping, can be attributed to Tricky’s production work on the track. Even though the producer left Massive Attack during its infancy, fans of the group should “enjoy” this intense cut.
“You’ve Been Flirting Again” is one of the mellower tracks on “Post,” but I feel it’s a necessary evil that Björk at least hints at her tamer side after such a change in direction from her last record. The string arrangements and her singing are nothing to joke about, either. “Isobel” starts similarly until it begins to sound more tribal, and the strings pick up in volume. Regardless, Björk is in the middle of it all, and plenty of infectious refrains culminate into a memorable track, as the final minute of vocals is just: “Na, na, na, na, na” to the song’s melody.
Considering I’m barely touching the lyrical content of this record, analyzing the music videos is a box I usually dare not open, but I will this time for the video to “I Miss You.” The song is excellent and has wonderful brass embellishments, and the music video is really something. Directed by the infamous John Kricfalusi, or John K. as “Ren & Stimpy” fans will know, the video primarily features animation from his “Spümcø” studio. Its overtly sexual tones are jarring, given that sexual abuse allegations against John K. have arisen in recent times. There are some cool sections, like the grayscale section two minutes in and the 3D model of a character around 2:40, though watching this in 2024 after the allegations is a bizarre experience, making the viewer feel unclean.
For the sake of completion, a few other highlights: “Possibly Maybe” is influenced by trip-hop, “Cover Me” employs a harpsichord and “Headphones” is an audiophile’s dream with its pulsating bass. This album succeeds across the board, yet I’m thankful Björk doubled down in an electronic direction for much of her career after “Post,” as this was a transitional record that could’ve prompted her discography to sound entirely different if it was received poorly. Although, she gives “hate fuels me” energy, so she would’ve made whatever music she wanted either way.