Composition[ edit ] The opening track of Homogenic , "Hunter" showcases the hybrid elements of strings and electronic backing beats through the album. But the emotion was ancient, deeply human". They have been described as what "[ties] the whole shebang together together [ She uses the interval of the fifth throughout the song, such as in the cellos; fifths were common in Icelandic folk songs. Lysloff and Leslie C. Gay, Jr.
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That comes as some relief to me, my origins being predominantly upwards-of-Humber. But I think what he was really driving at was that the North is a state of mind, not a place with boundaries and coordinates. The North is inside you as well as around you; you can evoke it, invoke it, summon it. Auden, perhaps the greatest British-born poet of the Twentieth Century, knew the thrill of this imagined territory.
I too have my lovesick reminders: a desktop image of Yorkshire hay-meadows greets me every time I fire up the office PC. One of my favourite cities is Stockholm, a place in which crystalline Nordic light almost hurts the eyes. And last year, I made it to the southern tip of the Arctic Circle, when friends of mine married in Finnish Lapland. Aurora borealis, reindeer, snowglobe landscapes — it was a joy for the Narnia-inclined.
Auden got even further, to Iceland. As a citizen of the world, a resolute pacifist with a complex ambivalence about questions of national identity, he valued the spaces outside of political circumscription.
But islands are also indisputably themselves, delimited as they are by the sea. They often make a point of their separateness, their difference. Their unreality becomes oh so much more real. They would certainly have got on, for she is a mythical creature in herself, straight off the pages of Icelandic lore, like one of the shapeshifters in the family of Egill.
She is a poet too, contorting the English language into new formations, gearing its molten words into odd shapes. And yes, she is also an island. The best type of island: once you arrive, you never want to set sail again. The first albums I heard were of course Debut and Post, whose breathtaking versatility defied any attempt to pigeonhole their creator. From that very moment, heralded by safari drums and a highly unstable key signature is it minor or major?
Logic is there to be misused by bumptious colonialists. And what was effecting the change? Pure music; the power of waves and frequencies. This is the most impressive reversal of all. Where music is usually an outward expression of an inner feeling, here the musician is taking us, unafraid, into her very body. When she finally followed up this highpoint in with perhaps her career best, Vespertine, she was both compellingly present and spellbindingly elsewhere.
Vespertine is one of the most personal, most erotic albums ever made, alive with minute sensual epiphanies, moments when light falls upon skin in hitherto unseen ways. What and where is this place?
It could be the mouth of the earth, pushed upwards into volcanic eruption. This is a hidden place unmasking itself, a revelation as inexorable as breathing. But this is also unearthly music. The first time I heard the choir unravelling the beautiful minor sixth chord that signals the chorus, it felt as if the stars were singing.
Its darkness is richly, deeply dark; its light is coruscating. Nevertheless, the song is neither about Iceland nor about the great cosmos beyond.
The hidden place is that space we reach as a couple that no outsider can access. This being art, though, the sex is also conceptual, even philosophical. Apparent contradictions ahem come together here. The hidden keeps revealing itself, in ever more Sibelius-ish choruses, for there are always deeper layers beyond immediate reach. Fragility is power here. You often sense that not even the English and Icelandic languages are capacious enough for what she wants to express.
But most often, language is embodied just as music is. It lives on the tongue, in the genitals, in the spine see her collaboration with Evelyn Glennie for this lumbar language in all its glory.
You can hear her lungs inflating and her lips smacking; you can hear her larynx vibrating and her mouth pouting and smiling. Perhaps, then, the song is about reconnecting us to the hidden parts of ourselves, as much as leading us to those of the singer. We are about to know our own bodies as never before. Lots of planets have a north. You have one too. Point the compass.
Part the pines. Watch your breath as you catch it.
Bjork Wow and Flutter
We sat together at the kitchen table and drank a lot of red wine and I told him the whole story for hours and days and he wrote the words from that story. She takes the book to a publishing house, "Clark Publishing", in an unspecified large city that may be Chicago, and she and the publisher fall in love. It becomes obvious, seeing and hearing excerpts from the book, that the book tells the story of how Bachelorette found the book, travelled to meet the publisher, and fell in love with him. The musical version includes the story of the musical itself, so at some point a mini theater is shown on the stage, featuring actors dressed as a small audience. At some point later in the musical this mini musical features an even smaller version of itself, with an even smaller stage audience.
Bjork Wow and Flutter
Hunter (Björk song)
Björk: Wow and Flutter