With each album since the beginning of her solo career, Björk has shattered expectations. On 1993's Debut, she got off the Sugarcubes, trading spazzy, upbeat pop and the embarrassing hollered catchphrases of Einar Orn Benediktsson for a slightly more laidback songwriting approach. On 1995's Post, she soldered previously unimaginable electronic sounds to massive orchestras, creating an album of intense emotion and wild diversity. Then, only two years later, she proved capable of manipulating cutting-edge electronics with an almost prodigious ease on Homogenic, her darkest and most cohesive album to date.
Given Björk's past reputation for burning pop rulebooks, Selmasongs should expand on her disregard for traditional song structures, and challenge listeners with inventive sounds and unconventional uses of new technology. It doesn't. In fact, Selmasongs breaks no new ground whatsoever for the Icelandic composer, instead dwelling in more comfortable regions already mapped by Homogenic.
The album begins promisingly with the beautifully arranged instrumental, "Overture." Muted horns echo distantly and gradually swell into a brief, subdued triumph. Tympani pounds beneath the gigantic sound, seemingly announcing the arrival of Arthur Clarke's 2001 monolith. But what comes next is far from evolution.
"Cvalda" opens with roughly a minute of busy industrial machinery, which gives way to rhythmic tapping and Björk's overzealous refrain, "Clatter, crash, clack!/ Racket, bang, thump!/ Rattle, clang, crack, thud, whack, bam!" "It's music," she whispers. "Now dance!" As the tapping morphs into a generic hip-hop beat, vibes cascade eerily over Björk's trademark crooned vocals. Sadly, the melody is lifeless and predictable, and song's chorus, bad enough the first time around, is beaten into oblivion.
"I've Seen It All," a duet between Björk and Thom Yorke, diverts attention from the incessant clattering, crashing and clacking of "Cvalda" with utter malaise. But the song's very premise is a cliché, expressing such overwrought sentiments as, "I've seen a man killed by his best friend/ And lives that were over before they were spent." The paired vocalists also seem an odd match here; when Björk's soaring, intense delivery meets Yorke's general disinterest, the chemistry is far from convincing.
Fortunately, Selmasongs' closer saves the record at the last minute with what is easily one of Björk's best works thus far. "New World" opens with a muted pulse, and slowly resurrects the melody and horns of the sublime "Overture." As the song builds, the beat floats to the surface until it becomes practically crystalline. Björk croons, "I'm softly walking on air/ Halfway to heaven from here/ Sunlight unfolds in my hair." Strings scream while the horns climax to a victorious crescendo. Then, without warning, the drums theatrically give out and the song calms to a satiated hum.
So, the record definitely has its great moments. The problem is, there are only two of them. Yes, the arrangements are absolutely stunning; yes, the production is truly incredible. But ultimately, it's the songs that matter, and these ones, for the most part, fail to live up to Björk's past offerings.
I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt on this one, though, and here's why: Selmasongs is a soundtrack to Lars von Trier's Dancer in the Dark, a film in which Björk, as you undoubtedly already know, makes her acting debut. Artists are notorious for tossing off uninspired fluff when Hollywood calls. (Reference Billy Corgan's work on Stigmata or Mel Gibson's Ransom, or John McEntire's score for Reach the Rock.)
Also, the album is actually a collaborative effort, rather than a lone Björk project. Only one of its seven songs is credited as having been written solely by Björk; the rest were co-written by Sjón and Lars von Trier, with occasional assistance from LFO's Mark Bell. Bell also co-produced Selmasongs with Björk, with the exception of "Overture" and "New World," the record's two finest moments. Stack all this on top of the fact that the lyrics and music were all created specifically to fit the style and substance of the film, and it suddenly doesn't seem all that bad.
Björk's official follow-up to Homogenic, Domestika, is due out next year. And of course, it could go either way. If Selmasongs is the side project it appears to be, we can still expect great things in 2001. After all, the capabilities of computer software grow more astounding each day, and Björk has remained on the crest of that wave. But I'm not going to stand here and try to predict the future. All I know is, Selmasongs is a decent album, but pretty average compared to Björk's other stuff. And right now, that's what matters.
