Okay, let’s be real–Homogenic is the greatest Björk album of all time–and a Zero shortlist for “Best Album Ever.” It’s just that good. Every album she’s put out since then hasn’t quite matched how amazing Homogenic was on the whole.
That said, it’s not like she just completely fell off. While none of her subsequent albums has managed to capture the beauty and brilliance as a cohesive whole, she’s still managed to demonstrate on each album how truly transcendent she is.
So, for fun, I put together a list of ten post-Homogenic songs that still rock my fucking world.
1) “The Boho Dance” (A Tribute To Joni Mitchell compilation, 2007)
Released somewhat quietly on Nonesuch back in 2007, the Tribute To Joni Mitchell comp cobbles together an absolute all-star lineup (Prince, Sufjan Stevens, Sarah MacLachlan, Annie Lennox, among others). It’s Björk that steals the entire show, though, taking Mitchell’s soft-rock tone poem, stripping it of its lush arrangement and rhythm and presenting it over an abstract, beat-less collage of music box-sounding electronics and glockenspiel. It’s largely intimate (moreso than the original), subtle and soft but for a handful of trademark explosive vocal runs, and it’s tear-evoking:
2) “New World,” (Selmasongs/ the film Dancer In The Dark, 2000)
I actually prefer the version that she sings in the film (if you haven’t seen the film, this is a mega-spoiler; regardless of whether you have seen the film, it’s a VERY intense scene, very hard to watch, that not even I cannot watch without sobbing, hence the link, not the embed)–the different lyrics, disturbingly happy and optimistic, juxtaposed against the unmitigated tragedy of the story and its coda, all haunt the listener.
That said, the album version of the song, which plays immediately after the version in the film itself (over the closing credits) and is much happier, is just as solid. "If living is seeing, I’m holding my breath/in wonder, I wonder what happens next/a new world, a new day to see.“ It’s gorgeous.
3) "Undo,” from Vespertine (2001)
While Vespertine is probably my least favorite of her albums (it’s still good, but not one that I listen to as often as some others), there are a few songs on it that truly blow it up. Everyone remembers Pagan Poetry (NSFW link–boobs), but I’m more a fan of Frosti and, of course, Undo. I think mostly the sheer scale of the arrangement–the harp and the orchestra blow my mind every time.
4) Wanderlust (Volta – 2007)
Let’s be clear–Volta was a weird, cluttered, unfocused shotgun blast of a Björk album. Not that this is a bad thing, mind you, but I do wish we’d have been able to hear the original Timbaland beats that appear in some places. The album has more brilliant moments than I can even mention here, but they’re surrounded by so much chaos that the brilliance gets lost in the sheer tidal wave of stimuli.
5) “Who Is It” (Medulla, 2004)
Medulla was so close to being as cohesive as Homogenic; the songs featuring largely vocals were glorious and inspirational, and Björk wisely didn’t overuse or lean on Rahzel or Mike Patton too heavily. The problem arose when she went a little too overboard with the collaborators–the album on the whole is too heavy on Tagaq, and the Robert Wyatt and Dokaka collaborations just don’t feel as good. "Who Is It,“ on the other hand, merges all its bits (especially Tagaq and Rahzel) fantastically.
6) "Desired Constellation” (Medulla, 2004)
The best song on Björk’s largely “a capella” album is actually one of the few with a proper instrumental arrangement. Some critics link this song directly to her Vespertine period; I, on the other hand, think it sounds more like a Selmasongs-esque cut. A delightful, intimate love song, the studio recording sounds as if Björk is singing into a single mic in the driest, emptiest room imaginable. The live versions are also dope:
7) “Amphibian” (Being John Malkovich soundtrack, 1999)
I have absolutely no clue what’s being said or sung here, which I think is part of this song’s appeal. (I don’t even know if she’s singing in Icelandic, here–if anyone knows, please tell me). This version of the song plays over the closing credits of the Jonze film, a freaky, abstruse, completely messed-up fantasy. I love the hell out of it–the simple drum part, combined with the harp and what is either whistling or a singing saw. The trace elements of bass and strings make this a hypnotic, beautiful abstraction.
8) “Virus” (Biophilia, 2011)
Biophilia was the fascinating culmination of a typically Björk idea–release the songs both as an album and as iPad apps, allowing for endless remix possibilities and, logically, no real definitive vision for what the actual album would be. That said, the Björk versions of all the songs, while charming, didn’t quite reach the same heights that “Virus” reached. The love song is vintage Björk: bells, whistles, ascendant harmonies, and contradictory lyrics (she refers to the subject of her love as “my sweet adversary”).
9) “Where Is The Line” (Medulla, 2004)
Björk. Mike Patton. Duh.
and, finally,
10) “The Dull Flame Of Desire” (Volta, 2007)
I actually prefer the video edit of this song, which is shorter and less self-indulgent. What really sells this song for me is not that it’s a duet–while Antony Hegarty is a brilliant vocalist, this song feels more like it was a solo song that simply ended up with her on it as an afterthought–but simply because the voices feel very opposing (Björk’s post-punk sear burns the air even as Hegarty’s elastic vibrato bubbles beneath it). It’s jazz thrust into an orchestral blossoming, although apparently Brian Chippendale drums on it. (For the record, Chippendale is entirely wasted on this track, relegated to playing a simplistic rhythm that even I could play.) The song really takes off around 3:30 or so, when Björk and Hegarty begin to sing each part the same way.