Björk Gudmundsdottir's Record Collection
Interview by Martin Aston
This article is from the ??? issue of Q.
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- Björk sitting at her kitchen table with ten of her best CDs. She's holding one up.
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Taoist children's stories from Iceland. Film soundtracks
from the Indian subcontinent. Anarcho-veggie punk from, er,
Southeast London? Martin Aston can have stumbled upon the
private listening pleasure of only one elfin pop siren:
Why, it's. . .
Björk Gudmundsdottir's Record Collection
DOWN THE concrete steps, round the back
and to the left, you'll find Björk Gudmundsdottir's
dinky new residence, on the cusp of London's inner
city border and its leafy Western suburbs. It's here
that the Icelander and her seven-year-old son Siddri
decamped nine months ago, after the dissolution of
the erratically inspired Sugarcubes, to record her
debut solo album, cunningly titled Debut. The deci-
sion has paid off handsomely; the record's attrac-
tive amalgamation of pop, house, jazz and ethnic
spicing -from Arabia to India and beyond -with that
characteristically offbeat Icelandic temperament
and the assistance of studio overseer Nellie Hooper
(of Soul II Soul fame) has already won several long-
player-of-'93 accolades, and the geyser-voiced
singer has become accustomed to being a front-
cover sensation for the second time.
Inevitably, there is a price to pay. "I'm well aware
of making a sacrifice by leaving Iceland, because I'm
so much from there," she confides over a cup of tea,
"but I've been on a little personal mission, which is my
album. Basically, the money, studio and equipment was all
here, not in Iceland."
Still, many of Björk's possessions remain in her
Reykjavik home, including her favourite albums, the reason
for this early morning meet. The ubiquitous Filofax
and a coffee-table tome of presumably homesick-
ness-inducing Icelandic landscapes perch on the
kitchen table while a pile of CDs and tapes sit untidily
on a work surface nearby.
"When I first left home, I carried all sorts of stupid
stuff around with me in boxes, but I gradually learnt
to give that up," she says. "I realised that the best
thing is to have, when you go somewhere, is what
you're wearing. One book and you're laughing.
Especially when you're trying to move from one
country to another. You have to start again."
1 THORNBJORN EGNER
DE SEKSTEN BESTE
"This is what Icelandic kids get for a birthday present
when they're young. Egner is this ideologist guy who
made plays for children, on the same tip as Winnie
The Pooh, I'd say: the Taoist tip, if you want. The
songs are full of anarchy, like 'fuck parents, fuck
teachers, fuck policeman, I can bring myself up'.
One song is about the animals who live in the forest
who decide not to eat each other, and become veg-
etarians. It's a bit of a heavy moral message for five-
year-olds."
"Basically, it's all about these two Icelandic trolls,
Karius and Baktus, who were the first punks, so I
was introduced to punks about 10 years earlier than
you lot. Anyway, they live in your teeth, and if you eat
sweets, they're really hardcore punks, so they like to
puke and spit like punks like to, and then they really
hit your teeth, and shout. There are brilliant sound
effects on this (impersonates tooth decay). It's a bit
like Igor Stravinsky for kids, with brass and string
instruments. There are happy songs and sad songs,
but it's all very dramatic. It definitely made you think
that authority was a bit dodgy. I think it's a bit of the
Bohemian Scandinavian over-socially aware thing,
the idea that kids can sue their parents, which has
gone out of date now. I must admit, I thought twice
before I played it to my son. Fairy tales are cruel,
aren't they? The wolf was eating the grandmother,
after all."
2 SPARKS
KIMONO MY HOUSE
"I was brought up with all these hippies. Ten of them
and one of me. At the age of seven, I'd really had
enough of all those hippy records, that psychedelic crap,
so I became like a kid who has to listen to different
stuff to her parents. My dad was a bit on the case, and
probably bought this Sparks album, but didn't really like
it, but I played little else for a year, and drove them
all mad. It's really for kids as well, you know, "This
town ain't big enough for the both of us, and it ain't me
who's gonna leave which was a pretty cool statement. They
were a bit theatrical, I guess, more expressive than your
average pop album, and not just about I-love-you-and-you-
love-me. I loved the way Russell Mael sung like a geisha,
and that they were into wearing geisha clothes, as I was
really into Japanese people."
"What kids get into is very picturesque music that
is really easy to imagine what's going on. At that
point, I'd got really bored of guitars and rock'n'roll,
and Sparks were more interesting, more like a fairy
tale. I was really into them until I read an interview
with the singer a year later, when he said that the
only two things in the world he didn't like was kids
and animals. That broke my heart.
"I left home first, actually, at 14. I got the feeling
that time was running out, and there were all these
exciting things happening out there, and you're
missing them. You wanted to rent a flat and cook
really bad meals, that sort of thing. I came back a
year later when I was broke."
3 JONI MITCHELL
HEJIRA
"When I was about 10, I was listening a lot with my
dad, to what he was getting into, like Frank Zappa,
who I used to think was a dirty old man, but then got
to appreciate a couple of years later, stuff like Don't
You Eat That Yellow Snow (from Apostrophe) which
I found hilarious, that someone peed in the snow
and that someone else was meant to eat it."
"When I was 13, though, I got into Joni Mitchell
with my dad, and played it to pieces. I loved Don
Juan's Reckless Daughter but Hejira was the one. It
was more acoustic. I've always found guitars a bit
difficult because my dad played since I was very lit-
tle, and he was a bit of a Clapton and Hendrix kind of
guitarist, and I've always been critical of that, but I
loved her guitar sound very much, although it's very
hard to say why. With hindsight, she was one of the
first women I heard who weren't completely stupid.
She had her own air of style and independence,
whereas a lot of women just wanted to play men's
music. I wasn't so much into her voice, more that
she had her own world, with her own elements. You
definitely knew that it was Joni the second you
heard her. It was very strong, but very feminine, you
know? It was natural and earthy but modern as
well."
"She was never my role model, though: I don't
think any singer was, to be honest. Instruments
influenced me more than singers, like brass and
stuff. You might start puking when I say it but I never
had the ambition to be a singer, I always wanted to
make good music. It's like learning shorthand writ-
ing. It's not so much that you're into it, but it makes
it easier to write anything. That's why I sing."
4 ELLA FITZGERALD AND LOUIS ARMSTRONG
ELLA AND LOUIS
"At the same time as Joni, I got into Debussy at my
grandparents' house, especially his dramatic little
piano pieces, and I got into jazz. I love the way Ella
and Louis work together: they were opposites in
how they sung, but were still completely functional
together, and respectful of each other. My favourite
bit of Ella is from the Jazz At The Hollywood Bowl
album, the one where she forgets the lyrics. She
goes, 'I forgot the lyrics to this song, be bop be
bop, I forgot the lyrics to this song, be bop be bop',
which I thought was great."
"I've always liked Ella because she's really
happy. I've never been into all these suffering
artists, I think it's a bit pathetic. You have your
problems, but you have to go one step further, and
see the funny side of it. Everybody has problems,
not only Morrissey. That's why I've always pre-
ferred Ella to Billie, even though Billie is the singer of
the century and all that shit, but I think it's much
braver to be happy than to be suffering, taking
heroin and all that. Ella was strong enough not to
bore the audience with her own difficult life. I saw
her sing at the Montreux Jazz Festival when I was
15: she was 60, with white hair, but exactly the
same greatest sense of humour. She's always
teasing people. I guess her singing was an influ-
ence on me but not in a direct sense, more in the
sense that you shouldn't take melodies too literally.
It's a bit irrelevant what a melody is like in a song:
the point is more the mood, and the emotions, and
it doesn't matter if you forget the lyrics. You can still
sing the song. You can do whatever you want to."
5 DISCHARGE
NEVER AGAIN
"I was in a muso band at 15, playing seven-ninth
rhythms, being complicated and diffcult. Then I got
into punk. I started by forming this punk band,
called Spit And Snot, believe it or not. I was the
drummer, with no hair. That was a big scene in
Reykjavik: I think we hold the world record of how
many people lived in Iceland, and how many punk
bands there were. But it was very difficult to get
English punk records: you'd get one, like a Gang Of
Four record, and everyone would go to that one
person's house. So all these bands started to play,
and we definitely got over the problem of not know-
ing how to play - that was mind over matter."
"The one classic album from that time was
Never Again (a double 12-inch album featuring 10
one-minute songs), though I had three or four of
theirs. They had such hardcore energy. I've always
thought this line between complete energy and
getting muso should be kept very thick. I wasn't
into the new wave scene when they started to put
chords to punk. What do you call the Teenage
Turtles? Mutants. It was a bit like that, not pure any
more. That's why I liked Discharge, and really
respected Crass too. We'd met Crass at the time
we were running this organisation in Iceland called
Bad Taste, before we formed The Sugarcubes,
when lots of people came over to play, including
Crass. They heard our band, KUKL, play and
offered us a deal. I was 18 at this point and had
never been to England, so I couldn't relate to
Margaret Thatcher. It was very hard for Icelandic
people who were still a bit in the middle ages."
6 RAHSAAN ROLAND KIRK
THE INFLATED TEAR
"Roland Kirk and Sun Ra are what I've been most
into in the last five years. Both aren't academic jazz
people, they're totally earthy and natural, like
ancient, somehow, but very modern at the same
time. The sound is muddy. If I had to pick one per-
son as my hero, I'd have to say Kirk: He plays brass,
for one, which has always been a soft spot for me,
and he plays in a very intuitive way as opposed to
with brains. He plays songs that are like pop songs,
they're so simple, but at the same time, are mind-
expanding experiences. It's not too much of any-
thing but has got all the extremes. He plays freejazz
that a five-year-old kid would understand, that any-
one could get into, which is something I always like."
"Pick five Roland Kirk and five Sun Ra albums
and you'll probably have my favourite record. But if
you're forcing me to pick one, it's Kirk's The
Inflated Tear. It's at the brilliant stage in his life,
before he got too much into fusion, which I don't
like, when he was getting really basic, back to
roots. The title track is about when he was two
years old, and had some eye disease, and was liv-
ing in this black ghetto. He had this white nurse who
didn't really have time to take good care of him, and
gave him the wrong medicine for his eyes, which
blinded him for life. The song is based on memory:
he could remember the last minute he saw and the
first minute he couldn't."
7 DIWAHI BAPPI LAHRIRI
SNAKE DANCE
"I'm completely fascinated by Indian string sec-
tions, and have been for a while. The music is com-
pletely sensual, and very pretty, and again, more to
do with instincts than brains. I think my love of it has
a lot to do with having to deal with England. I'm
eventually falling in love with England, of course,
but like all flirting periods, it's a lot to do with being
hard to get. When I tried to get into English culture,
I always ended up going out and buying Indian
music. I'm a visitor here: I call myself an immigrant
housewife. I hang out with the Indians in Southall
and go to Thai takeaways. Indian culture is beauti-
ful, more so than the English. I felt some sort of sup-
port, or sympathy there. I felt like I belonged there."
"I don't know much about Bappi Lahriri. I just
know that if I buy 10 Indian albums, and one is by
Bappi, I'm safe. Snake Dance is a film soundtrack
which me and Nellie really got into when we were
making my album, and ended up sending two of my
songs to Bombay where Indian strings were
recorded. Indian soundtracks have this incredibly
pure sound. They've tried to record string sections
in England, top quality microphones, top quality
Indian musicians, the lot, but it's just not the same.
Tarvin Singh, who plays with my band and who
works a lot in Bombay, told me that the sound engi-
neers there are so used to working under poor con-
ditions that their ears are incredible, and they can
get that particularly earthy sound. Apparently tabla
players all surround one microphone, and they can
tell exactly who it is who is playing out of tune."
8 ABBA
ARRIVAL
"I can get lost in this. It's pure joy, this music. It's a
bit of an escapism, from all the intellectual conver-
sations and arguments you have in your life, and
just being silly and happy and stupid, but it's pure,
as pure as pure can get. You just want to dance on
the table. The Sugarcubes wanted Benny and
Björn to produce our second album, but they didn't
want to. We were naturally upset."
9 PUBLIC ENEMY
FEAR OF A BLACK PLANET
"Around 1987, when The Sugarcubes started, I got
heavily into hip hop. I was listening to Public Enemy
every day, which meant a bit of a fight on the tour
bus as I was trying to play it all the time and the oth-
ers hated it. After Public Enemy, everything else is
just like... woofty. I mean, wimpish. Yo Bum Rush
The Show was the one that opened your mind but
Fear Of A Black Planet is the one that, musically, is
a masterpiece. They've been so misunderstood.
They've mostly been taken for their politics, which
is great, but if you just look at the other worlds, and
there are a lot of worlds in this world, one being
music, which is the leader of them all because it's
pure instinct - well, musically, they just did it. No-
one in hip hop, house, techno, whatever, opened
up as much ground as they did. The music is so
modern and so... abstract. It's just like, fuck the
rules. I would put them in a group with people like
Stockhausen and Schoenberg. Forget about
rock'n'roll chords, we've all been suffering from
them all our lives, and they just rescued us from that
syndrome."
10 CHET BAKER
LET'S GET LOST
"We argued about all music on the tour bus but the
two things we could all agree on was Abba and
Chet Baker. I'd say Baker is my favourite vocalist of
the century. There were two albums, both with the
same title, ridiculously, which were released with
Bruce Weber's film of his life, Let's Get Lost. One
was recorded when the film was being made, when
he was older, and the other with all the stuff he sung
when he was young, which I prefer."
"I wouldn't say he's an influence as I didn't hear
him until much later in my life, but he's the only
singer I've ever been able to identify with. I love the
fact he's so expressive, so over-emotional. It's
classic stuff; it makes me soft in my knees. He was
a bit of a heroin casualty, silly guy, but you couldn't
tell he had a habit when he was younger. He was so
into it, like, 'fuck those notes I'm singing, and fuck
those songs I'm singing, what I want is the emotion'.
That's how I feel about it too."
Typed in by Bert Ocrone
Converted to HTML by Matts Henning (April 7th 1995)
Last changed : March 21th 1996