Can an artist always experimenting defy definition? Is it possible to mash up various inspirations into one inspiring figure? Can Gen Xers hear the voices of the young and change and grow while still setting a social tone? And can her early concert bind two lost souls into a first kiss? If we are talking about Björk Guðmundsdóttir of Iceland? Yes!
If you don’t know who Bjork is, here is the quick run down. She is a singer, an actor, and an author. Most people know her for her music. With a three octave soprano voice that in the same line of a song can move from a childlike whisper to a banshee’s primal scream.
In her 11 studio albums and 6 remixes she has sold almost 10 million units. More importantly, each and every project has been carefully crafted. The visuals, the lyrics, the composition, and the stage of life were always in synergy. Each music video was like a short film in an arthouse.
She can seamlessly combine emotions that are raw and in your face sexuality while incorporating deep symbolism on the world like a goddess poet bleeding on her subjects while enveloping them into beauty and light. Like any good storyteller she will build you up, make you feel the gut punch of life two thirds of the way through the story so we can all rise above in the final act.
Her sounds will use the latest that technology has to offer while adding classical techniques the spirits of the Romantics, Baroques, and Renaissance period musicians would recognize and approve. The same would be said of the Jazz greats.
In short, there is a reason she is 81 in Rolling Stone’s 100 Greatest Songwriters of All Time and 64 in their 100 greatest singers. She is a genius and while others try to be innovative and Avant Garde, she just is.
Triumph of a Heart
Not all geniuses get the recognition they deserve, and I do not feel she has, but there have been a few moments. Out of her 324 nominations she has been recognized with 143 awards which include Cannes Film Festival, 5 MTV Awards in 2 Continents, and 5 Brit Awards. But most uniquely is Iceland’s highest honor for chivalry. The Order of the Falcon.
King Christian X of Iceland said of the order in 1921, “We consider it right, in order to give official recognition to those men and women, Icelandic and foreign, who have made outstanding contributions to the honour and prosperity of the country in some way, to establish an Icelandic order, which We wish to be named ‘the Icelandic Falcon.’”
Politicians, heads of state, and scholars are usually the recipients of the Order of the Falcon, but Bjork is one of 15 artists to have received the honor.
In Iceland she is not merely an eccentric singer. She founded the organization Náttúra, which aims to promote Icelandic nature and grassroots industries. She also feels strongly that the sustainable use of natural resources can not only bring Iceland out of debt, but to a thriving economy. In collaboration with Audur Capital, she set up a venture capital fund titled BJÖRK to support the creation of sustainable industries in Iceland.
And to call her an eccentric singer is reductionist. Bjork is constantly experimenting, innovating, and being very deliberate in her artistic creations, her social beliefs, and how she goes about her words and her life.
Pagan Poetry
Most people outside of Iceland became aware of Bjork in 1987 when her first band, The Sugarcubes, released an album to critical and fan acclaim. But before the Sugar Cubes, this 1965 born artist would work with other artists and explore new concepts as she discovered the early 80s post punk scene in London.
The inspirations and muses that would forge her creative expressions were some of the great goddesses of music. She credits her raw confessional songwriting to the transparent and vulnerable writings of Abida Parveen, Chaka Khan, Joni Mitchell and Kate Bush. Of them all, Bush was her most influential.
As far as vocal and compositional experimentation styles she leaned into the new wave and post punk creatives of Siouxsie and the Banshees, Wire, the Passions, the Slits, Joy Division, and Killing Joke. Bjork’s first post punk band, Tappi Tikarass, was heavily inspired by Siouxsie and was the formation of her own unique expressive style and use of her vocal transitions in her storytelling. Mix in a love of jazz fusion, Icelandic folk music, and some classical piano training, she pulled into herself a coherent self from the best of the inspirations that moved her.
Others would think it sacrilege to incorporate so many sources into one artist, but Pagan poets will see beauty everywhere and make it one, won’t they?
Human Behavior
Many Gen X content creators are stuck in the past. They believe everything then was awesome and everything now is just a downward spiral. Evolution is for woke homo erectus while we unenlightened apes mock all that we refuse to understand. But not Bjork. In an emotional interview she gave to Pitchfork Review in 2016 she spoke of her evolution in feminist thought.
“For my generation, the best proof that women can do what they want, was just to go out and get things done. That’s always been the best way for me to be a strong woman. But in the past three or four years, there’s been a new wave of feminism, especially with girls in their 20s. I thought, ‘Okay, now is the time to moan.’”
To add some cultural context. For an Icelander, a moan is not whining, it is vocalizing pain. To speak out. She continued in tears.
“After being the only girl in bands for 10 years, I learned – the hard way – that if I was going to get my ideas through, I was going to have to pretend that they – men – had the ideas. I want to support young girls who are in their 20s now and tell them: You’re not just imagining things. It’s tough. Everything that a guy says once, you have to say five times.”
In my generation we have 2nd wave feminists. Feminism is in it’s fourth wave. It is intersectional, welcoming of trans siblings into the sisterhood, and tears down the barrier that has kept women of color out of the equation. We need to be grateful for what the second wave accomplished, but to not hear the voices of younger women and evolve is myopic. It is also dangerous as we look at the geo political reversals of rights we are seeing in the Western world. Thank the goddesses for the Bjorks, Cyndi Laupers, and Jane Weidlins who listen, adapt, and then embody.
One Day and The Gate
Bjork does not speak often regarding politics, but when she does it is well thought out and her words are chosen carefully.
When former President and convicted felon Donald Trump pulled the USA out of the Paris Agreement, she took to social media to express her sadness, fear, and disappointment in this direction. Her post was shared widely and she was pressed on the matter of politics. She made it clear that her concerns are not with just the right, but the whole system.
In her responses her evolution in thought listening to the younger generations shined.
“We were pointing our fingers at the right, saying that all the misogyny and corruption was there,” she says. “And that‘s true—but it‘s also in the left, and that needs to be addressed and revolutionize. We need to not just go by something that worked in the 1960s. The reason why we haven’t been able to form a left-wing government in last two elections isn’t just a problem of the right. It’s apparent that the left has just as much of an infrastructural problem as the right.”
She feels that systemic change ultimately needs to happen at the government policy level. Our voices and actions have to be the driving force that convinces them that change is necessary. In a 2017 interview with Grapevine she ended her interview with this thought.
“When I talk about utopia, it’s not just some pipedream. It’s more about the human need to try and rewrite the recipe. And then it’s not only about defining what you want, but also making it come true. Because even if only half of it comes true, you’re good.”
I Want…
“I want another date!” Cassie said as we walked through a wooden covered bridge over a small river in a park.
It was Summer of 1988 and midway through our second date. Our first date happened on the heels of a horrible misunderstanding a scant few weeks prior. She asked me to do a photoshoot of her and had understandable triggers of past rapes that I was a threat to her safety. Best way for that to make sense is to read about it in a prior entry called “Debbie Harry and the Value of Blondie’s Deal“.
I stopped and looked at her. Her blonde hair was starting to curl from the humidity and her blue eyes smiled as she looked at me and bit into her soft serve ice cream cone.
“So this one is going well?” I asked.
“Mmmmhm!” she said as she wiped vanilla ice cream from her upper lip.
“Well, what would you like to do?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” she replied. She honestly looked confused.
“Where do you want to go? What do you want to do for our third date?”
She took another mouthful of her ice cream and furrowed her brow. “No one’s ever asked me that. Seriously? I get to pick.”
“Of course,” I said.
“Can I think about it?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you.” She was very serious at this point. As we continued our walk she slid her hand into mine and it felt like electricity rushing up my arm and through my whole being.
Birthday
On the way back to her aunt’s Townhouse where she lived we had the radio on. The DJ introduced the song “Birthday” by the Sugarcubes with a reminder that tickets were still available for their upcoming show at the Metro in Chicago. Cassie lit up. “Pat!”
“Yeah?” I asked. Then the light dimmed as she said, “Nevermind.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Well, I had an idea for our third date, but it’s too much. It’s silly.”
“Tell me.” I said.
“I like the Sugarcubes. And I’ve never really been to a concert in the city.”
“I like them too. Her voice is amazing! Let’s do it.” I said.
“Really?” she said as the light came back on.
“Yeah. I’ll hit the Ticketmaster in Carson’s during my break tomorrow and get the night off at work.”
“Really?” She repeated.
“Really.” I said.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and slid next to me. I put my arm around her. I felt the electricity rush through me again.
The next day I got the tickets at the mall and went to the Orange Julius smoothie stand she worked at and held up the tickets in front of her. Her eyes lit up.
“I’d kiss you if my boss wasn’t here!” she exclaimed. I blushed a little. We had not kissed yet. More on that later. She continued. “Now I gotta figure out what to wear!”
“You got 5 days to figure that out, Blondie Blonde!” I said.
Blue Eyed Pop
The day of the concert I went to the bank and withdrew some money for gas and dinner after the show. When I went to pick her up I lost my breath. She came out in a plaid skirt, black sleeveless tee, and lace mesh over the tee topped off with red lipstick and a black beret.
When we got into the Wrigleyville neighborhood of Chicago she looked at everything around her like a little kid seeing Disneyland for the first time. Despite the sweltering summer heat she rolled down the window to see everything. I found cheap parking a few blocks away from the Metro. As we walked up Clark street she slid her arm into mine and practically got whip lash taking it all in.
When we got to the venue we were lined up with others. Wrigleyville back then was a fascinating place. It was a mixture of Cubs fans and a growing punk and queer scene and a college town vibe as well. When we walked in I saw her eyes go to the souvenir stand.
“Do you want something?” I asked.
“Pat,” she started. “My aunt and I are poor. I don’t really have money for stuff like that.”
“If you’re okay with dinner being a hot dog or something, it’s on me.”
She had a dark look in her eyes. Like when she thought the photo shoot was a set up.
“Cassie,” I said. “I’m not expecting anything. This won’t be used against you in a court of dick. I’d kinda like to get a program to remember our first concert. If you want something, too, I got it. You got it.”
“First concert?” She asked. Her body language eased. I got a program and she got a tee shirt of the Sugarcubes and we had a great time.
After the concert, the night air had cooled and we walked around and found a place that sold Italian beefs and Chicago hot dogs. She got a dog and a milkshake and I got an Italian sausage and a coke. We walked back to my car, sat on the hood of my 1977 Monte Carlo and had an impromptu picnic.
While talking about the show and the night she changed topics fast and hard.
“Pat. Do you really like me?”
I was taken aback with the tone. “Yeah.” That answer was the biggest understatement of my 18 year old life at that point.
“Why haven’t you kissed me?”
Kissing In Rhythm and in Sorrow
“I want to. The way things went down in my bedroom and learning what those men did to you. I just….just don’t want to…don’t know how to explain…” I was stammering.
What I was trying to say was I did not know how to initiate a kiss in the manner I had previously…just kiss the girl..like in the movies. With expectation. I had never thought about it. After a date you just made the move. That was what I knew. No one ever taught me different. And now that I knew and liked this girl who had experienced loss of agency where consent did not matter I knew it was the wrong way and oh my god did I want to kiss her.
“Do you remember Sesame Street when we were kids?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I mumbled nervously.
“Asking questions is a good way of finding out things.” She smiled nervously as she laid her drink and hot dog on my hood.
I stood up and faced her as she leaned toward me on my hood.
“Do you like me?” she asked.
“Yes.” I said. I could feel that electricity again as I found myself lost in her blue eyes.
“Do you have anything to ask me?” she asked.
This was not the first time I had kissed a girl, but it was the first time I asked for consent and I would never presume again. I stared into eyes fixed on mine. How did months of working in different stores in a mall and daily banter grow to us here and now? And what I was wanted was not a take and grab, but an honest and simple question that no cheap move or expectation could ever measure up to. I took a deep breath.
“Cassie, may I kiss you?” My heart was in my throat and as she nodded and smiled. I had never felt this good about a kiss.
I gently moved my right hand to her left cheek and moved forward. It was little more than a brush of the lips at first. Then came another, and another. Exploring and discovering curious and hungry. Deeper and more breathtaking with each one. I felt her teeth gently bite my lower lip playfully before our tongues found purchase. I realized at some point my hand had gone to the back of her head and her hands were on my shoulders as I felt our rhythm and electricity fill my body.
Who can tell how long or brief eternity lasted, but we stopped and stared into each others eyes with hands on each others cheeks.
Water filled her eyes and formed a single tear that slid down her cheek.
“Thank you for asking, Pat. That’s all you have to do. Do you understand?” More tears slid down her face but she was smiling.
I nodded and I felt a choke in my throat.
“Can you kiss me again?” she said one step away from sobbing.
I did. I tasted the salt on her lips and felt her embrace tighten. The moment, the taste on my lips, her embrace? It was sweeter than sugarcubes.
Support Gen X Watch!
There are three ways you can do this:
1. Share this story with a friend and leave a comment.
2. Tip me! I need your support!
3. Become a Members Only Patreon!
Thank you for your support and taking the time to read this.
Stay Totally Awesome! Stay true to you.
Leave a Reply