When lunar astronaut Björk crashed back down to earth
during the US leg of her recent world tour those
closest to her wondered if she was going to be able to
withstand the shock of impact. Her re-entry through
Earth's atmosphere was caused by physical exhaustion;
its by-product was she began to lose her voice. There
was panic in camp Björk. After a back to back schedule
of interviews, gigs and promotional chores she crashed
for three days. A specialist was brought on tour. She
had to cut her live set a little short, leaving out the
encores at some of the less important shows. She
stopped talking unless absolutely necessary,
communicating by means of a notepad and pen. Björk was
saving every last throat nodule for the remaining dates
of the tour, determined to fulfil the commitments she'd
already made. . .
. . .In 1987 The Sugarcubes released "Birthday",
bringing Björk's voice to the attention of the British
music press and a few thousand indie kids for the first
time. It was alien, other-worldly, an escape into the
imaginary situations and characters that shaped her
hopes and desires. Four Sugarcubes albums and her own
three million worldwide selling "Debut", which captured
the zeitgeist with a soundtrack to the summer of 1993,
have seemlessly imbued Björk's voice into mainstream
public consciousness. You either love it or you hate
it, but you damn well know it's her when you hear it
and that's what matters. What was once considered too
weird for commercial success is now accepted as Björk
flaunts convention at every opportunity, bringing
experimentation and new musical ideas to the charts. . .
. . .This year, "Post " shone new light onto planet
Björk, after the clouds begun to settle on the peaks of
the mighty but now overfamiliar "Debut ". "Post " spans
a similar emotional radius, but the musical production
breaks with any sense of the fluidity of its
predecessor. While "Debut " appears carved by water and
ice, "Post " seems shaped by fire and volcanic action;
the lows are much more precarious, the highs more
jagged and steeper to climb. Individually co-produced
with Nellee Hooper, Graham Massey, Howie B and Tricky,
the songs reflect the personalities of Björk's male
counterparts. These are her male collaborators in the
sexually-charged, creative act of making beautiful
music. Björk takes liberties with melodies and form is
avoided in favour of impression. You can imagine Björk
still gasping at her own reflection in water, still
seduced by the sound of the echo of her own voice.
Björk is back on fine form, after a strict diet,
rationed talking and plenty of rest. Last night she
broke with convention and went on a binge, ending up
back at her house with some friends, drinking and
talking until five in the morning. Tonight she's in an
hotel room in Liverpool, with a four poster bed and a
four poster bathtub, "dead
princess-like". She
describes the telephone she's talking to me on as being
gold with roses painted on it, "Jeff
Koons would love it".
It sounds like they knew Björk was coming. . .
. . .Dazed & Confused: How did you feel when you were
losing your voice?
Björk Gudmundsdottir: I was basically faced with, 'If
I can't sing, it's not only me and my life, but a lot
of people rely on that', you know? It was kind of
strange to be confronted with it.
D&C: But I heard that you had nodules (whatever they
might be) on your throat.
BG: I got nodules, but basically it is physical
exhaustion. It's so clever the way the body
functions; it makes you crash and makes you rethink
everything.
D&C: How long did you crash for?
BG: I crashed for a few days, but then I did the
whole tour very carefully. I called it my 'monk tip'.
So my last few months of touring has been Björk on the
monk tip. If you're sort of really bored, Jefferson,
and you want a new angle on life: don't do drugs, stop
talking. It's amazing. The amount of energy that goes
into communicating is just outrageous. And you end up
just writing what is dead important. Everything becomes
so precious. And it's very interesting. You start very
quickly listening to completely different music as
well, and reading completely different books and you
get this urge for completely different films as well.
D&C: Are you at the end of your monk tip now? Are you
talking more regularly to people?. . .
. . .BG: I can still go completely bonkers.That's kind
of how I was brought up, my drinking manners with my
mates, was 'go for it', and do it for 12 hours and then
don't do any of it for a month and I really like it
like that. But it had become that I was going out all
the time and it's not as precious. I went out last
night and got drunk and it's like I've cleared up a lot
crap, and I wake up like this rucksack full of rocks
has been lifted off my shoulder.
D&C: For me it's definitely the other way round. If
I've been out drinking I feel like I've got a rucksack
full of stones lying on my head.
BG: Yeah, that's what it's like when you do it often.
When you do it rarely and go all the way, it's better
than any fucking psychotherapy. Because your body just
screams for these needs and just goes and jumps on a
table if your body needs to.
D&C: You've become very good at analysing your own
psychology, working out what makes you tick. Have you
ever been to see a psychiatrist?
BG: No. I want to be quite self-sufficient like that.
I think people should only do that in the case of
emergency, but at the end of the day you've got to
learn to live with yourself and if you need constant
assistance just to do that... also I think you are
supposed to be able to solve those things through
friends and your relationship, not in an analysed,
calculated manner, but in a free flowing, natural way,
so you don't end up stuck with the same problems for
ten years. . .
. . . D&C: When was the last time you cried?
BG: Listen, I cry all the time. I cried this morning.
I'm over-emotional.
D&C: What was that all about?
BG: Well after my binge last night, we ended back at my
house and I ended up in a one to one talk with one of
my oldest friends and we were just crying, not because
of sadness, but because (laughs), it sounds so wack
now, we were being fragile, we weren't on drugs
(laughing) just fragile, and when you feel too much in
a happy way.
D&C: Close your eyes for a minute and tell me what you
hear inside your head.
BG: (long pause). :It's some sort of movement similar
to cream I think. You know when they squeeze the cream
out of the gas thing. Like really pretty when It's got
a spike at the top, and it's got a circle. Sort of slow
circle movement in the same way whipped cream would
move. Very still and very satisfied.
D&C: So you're happy at the moment..
BG: You know this touring thing is definitely one of
the most difficult things I've done, like an Indiana
Jones thing, and me dealing with my body, like 'time's
out, Björk'.
D&C: What were the overriding emotions you felt during
this tour?
BG: Goldie was with us, and all of Goldie's crew and
our crew got on and it was the best vibe on tour.
D&C: So how come you didn't ask Goldie to co-produce
any of the songs on "Post"?
BG: I don't know really. It wasn't like I was trying to
get the whole world on the album.
D&C: Yes it was. . .
. . .BG: (laughs) Yeah, I know, it looks a bit like
that. I'm very much a person who has intimate musical
relationships with people and they are almost like love
affairs, you see. But I'm very loyal. So me and Nellee
got through half the album and then we just stopped
turning each other on. We remained friends, but we
would just kind of know each other's taste too much for
it to be a surprise. And at that point I met Tricky, so
we did those tunes, half of which have come out on my
album, the other half is coming out on "Durban Poison".
D&C: And Graham Massey and Howie B, how did your
personal relationship with them affect the music?
BG: The tunes I wrote with Graham, I actually wrote
before "Debut", and I saved them for this. I met him in
1990; that was when we were really sparking big time
off each other, and for a few years we sent each other
tapes, and then when I started doing "Debut " with
Nellee it just became very obvious that it would end up
as a very musical affair between me and Nellee. So I
talked to Graham and decided to keep the other songs
because they were just too different. So I saved "Army
of Me" and "Modern Things" for this album, and then
Howie has been one of my closest friends in England for
over three years and that just kind of happened one
afternoon. That song we wrote in an hour.
D&C: It's a very spontaneous-sounding song.
BG: It's not even produced, I just decided to keep it
raw, like it is. (Pause). . .
. . .BG: I'm just going bonkers now, I had a three hour
conversation with Nellee yesterday. I fucking wake up
in the morning with a far too big heart, I don't know
what to do with it really. I love so many people so
deeply I could happily die now. It's scary. It's so
scary it's outrageous. If it wasn't for my kid I
would... emotionally-wise, I think I've achieved as
much I think I can achieve
D&C: I don't think you have.
BG: But do you know what I mean?
D&C: No. But you've probably achieved more than what
you think is possible...
BG: That's true...
D&C: But I don't believe that you've given as much as
you're ever going to give.
BG: (sighs) And the band as well; when I went through
my monk tip, they developed this amazing way to tell me
jokes without making a noise, they worked their way
around it.
D&C: It's funny because, when you're more serious, your
accent is more British, and when you're speaking more
emotionally it's more Icelandic.
BG: It's definitely that. For me Icelandic is my
instinct and English is me being clever. Icelandic is
unconscious and English is conscious. And when I speak
English, especially when I do interviews and stuff, I
can very easily see myself from the outside and
describe myself. But then again I would have to be
pretty stupid not to have developed that thing, because
I've done interviews now for 900 years. But it's
impossible for me to do interviews in Icelandic. I just
listen to myself and I sound so fake and so terribly
pretentious and so Little Miss Know-it-all, I just want
to strangle myself. The Icelandic media is going
bonkers because I do one interview there every five
years. . .
. . . D&C: Do you feel like you have multiple
personalities you can switch into at any time to suit
the mood or occasion? Like when you do interviews, or
when you're with friends or when you're performing. Or
do you feel a lot more sorted than that?
BG: I think I'm learning to combine them. And that's
kind of what "Debut " and "Post " are all about. Like,
I would love to do one experimental electronic song
with Graham and the next day I would love to be a diva
walking down the staircase being a drama queen. The day
after, I would love to do a punk song, and that's very
much how I've done my music so far, but I can feel very
much that I'm starting to become more everything at
once. Like I have one friend who I'm very humorous with
and another friend whom I'm very sexy with; and another
friend that protects me and another friend that I
protect; but now I can see it, I'm not planning it or
anything, I can just see myself being able to be
everything with each person and just being more
spontaneous about it, and just let it flow. But I think
everyone is a bit like that and that is kind of the
target; combine all those things without leaving any of
them out. Because it's very tempting, as we grow up, to
leave one of them out.
D&C: Are you in love at the moment?
BG: (Pause) I am, actually. I haven't eaten or slept
for two weeks.
D&C: And there's me thinking that's because you've been
working really hard, not shagging.
BG: But it doesn't really bother me. I just look at
a plate of food and I just think it's rubbish. It looks
like wood to me or coins. It's just impossible to put
it inside my system - it's got nothing to do with
me. . .
. . . D&C: But you seem to fall in love very easily.
BG: I think my reputation has gone a bit funny, because
I've got a lot of friends, but I get very precious when
it comes to love things, you know?
D&C: What do you think your reputation is?
BG: I dunno, I guess everyone thinks I fall in love
every five minutes, and I have nine boyfriends.
D&C: Yeah, they probably do.
BG: It's not true.
D&C: So you've just got one on the go?
BG: This is definitely the strongest, though for many,
many years. I'm on natural E; I don't even want to
drink, because that will make the feeling go away. I
just have to drink one glass and push me a little bit
up, and I'm ecstatic.
D&C: What's he like? Does he work in the same industry
as you?
BG: Don't ask me please. (pause) Let's put it this way,
I don't meet a lot of people other than the people I
work with. You know, it's not like I hang out with shoe
salesmen. Or gymnasts.
D&C: Or psychotherapists.
BG: Not in my line of work.
D&C: With you and Tricky. Why was it so short-lived?
BG: With me and Tricky I don't think we ever knew if we
were going out together or not. I mean, we were going
out together and then we weren't. Because, basically,
the way our relationship functioned was that we were
a support mechanism for each other, and we still have
this kind of, like, permission to call each other in
the middle of the night, when I'm in fucking Munich and
he's in fucking Tokyo. It's a very strange job we've
got, and we don't have to explain it: we know. And we
know the pressure. So that's more what our relationship
is like and still is. And I think it didn't last a long
time before we realised that that is why we'd met and
sucked like a magnet to each other.
D&C: So are you writing at the moment?. . .
. . .BG: Yeah. Pathetic Michael Jackson songs. (sings
'Don't Stop ''Til You Get Enough') My next record is
going to be happy Smurfs or something, I dunno. It's
very happy, which makes a change.
D&C: Tell me about one song. Have you got one in your
head at the moment? Apart from cream?
BG: It's very happy, very simple and very poppy. I
usually have two at the same time. And they are usually
opposite to each other. It's like that mood and that
mood, black and white. I've got about five songs that I
could go and record tomorrow. Basically, what happens
to me is I write the melody first and then, if I work
with someone, then the other person adds the other
half.
D&C: So who's next on your hit list?
BG: I think I have to start being a bit
self-sufficient.
D&C: Especially if you have to jump into the studio
with some geezer every time you want to record a song.
BG: I just love doing music with people; it's the
biggest kick ever. But what I need is patience to make
the song finish in my head because now in my head I've
got a lyric, a string arrangement, a bass line,
the sounds, what instruments I want to use, I've got
the rhythm, but if I would have met a person that I
would have musically fallen in love with, say, in June,
that probably meant that I would have only written
the melody and the bass line by then, so he would have
written the rest. But if I wait, I end up finishing
the song myself.
D&C: What kind of person do you fall musically in love
with?
BG: I want people to be strong characters and
personalities; I thrive on that, I'm motivated by very
strong characters, I don't get any kick out of bossing
people around you see. . .
. . .Paul Smith presents Björk with some more abstract,
personal questions. The kind of things he likes to be
asked when interviewed.
Paul Smith: Who is your favourite painter?
Björk Gudmundsdottir: Gerhard Richter.
PS: I recently went to see Christo's wrapping in Berlin.
Have you seen any of his work? Do you like his work?
BG: I can't stand it. A lot of these people, like Andy
Warhol and these pop people, get one idea and do it 900
times; I can't stand these Philip Glass idiots.
PS: Do you get time to travel for pleasure, and if so
where would you go?
BG: I love boats. I don't know if I've got any time though.
PS: Do you fancy Disneyland?
BG: I have a love/hate relationship with it.
PS: Do you find time to read?
BG: Yes.
PS: Do you have any sisters or brothers?
BG: Three sisters and three brothers.
PS: What do they do?
BG: They're all younger than me and still deciding what
to do.
PS: Do you think that that kooky "Spitting Image"
puppet of you relates to you in many ways?
BG: I missed it, but I like the singing with fax
machine bit.
PS: You put on one of the best shows ever seen at any
festival this year at Reading. Whose idea was it to
have the burning Björk logo hoisted into the sky?. . .
. . .BG: It was a surprise. It was the people that set
up the gig for me.
PS: What is your earliest and most vivid childhood
memory?
BG: My first memory is being in a kindergarten and I
refused to be one of the kids, I was always helping
the ladies out. I remember putting butter and rye bread
out for the kids. That's it really.
PS: What is your favourite animal?
BG: Polar bear.
PS: What do you fear most?
BG: Boredom.
PS: What car do you drive?
BG: I don't drive.
PS: What is your favourite number and why?
BG: Zero - a fresh start.
PS: What is your lucky charm? Mine is a rabbit.
BG: Mine is a silver sperm.
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