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            When lunar astronaut Björk crashed back down to earth
          during the US leg of her recent world tour those
          closest to her wondered if she was going to be able to
          withstand the shock of impact. Her re-entry through
          Earth's atmosphere was caused by physical exhaustion;
          its by-product was she began to lose her voice. There
          was panic in camp Björk. After a back to back schedule
          of interviews, gigs and promotional chores she crashed
          for three days. A specialist was brought on tour. She
          had to cut her live set a little short, leaving out the
          encores at some of the less important shows. She
          stopped talking unless absolutely necessary,
          communicating by means of a notepad and pen. Björk was
          saving every last throat nodule for the remaining dates
          of the tour, determined to fulfil the commitments she'd
          already made. . .
          
 . . .In 1987 The Sugarcubes released "Birthday",
          bringing Björk's voice to the attention of the British
          music press and a few thousand indie kids for the first
          time. It was alien, other-worldly, an escape into the
          imaginary situations and characters that shaped her
          hopes and desires. Four Sugarcubes albums and her own
          three million worldwide selling "Debut", which captured
          the zeitgeist with a soundtrack to the summer of 1993,
          have seemlessly imbued Björk's voice into mainstream
          public consciousness. You either love it or you hate
          it, but you damn well know it's her when you hear it
          and that's what matters. What was once considered too
          weird for commercial success is now accepted as Björk
          flaunts convention at every opportunity, bringing
          experimentation and new musical ideas to the charts. . .
           . . .This year, "Post " shone new light onto planet
          Björk, after the clouds begun to settle on the peaks of
          the mighty but now overfamiliar "Debut ". "Post " spans
          a similar emotional radius, but the musical production
          breaks with any sense of the fluidity of its
          predecessor. While "Debut " appears carved by water and
          ice, "Post " seems shaped by fire and volcanic action;
          the lows are much more precarious, the highs more
          jagged and steeper to climb. Individually co-produced
          with Nellee Hooper, Graham Massey, Howie B and Tricky,
          the songs reflect the personalities of Björk's male
          counterparts. These are her male collaborators in the
          sexually-charged, creative act of making beautiful
          music. Björk takes liberties with melodies and form is
          avoided in favour of impression. You can imagine Björk
          still gasping at her own reflection in water, still
          seduced by the sound of the echo of her own voice.
          Björk is back on fine form, after a strict diet,
          rationed talking and plenty of rest. Last night she
          broke with convention and went on a binge, ending up
          back at her house with some friends, drinking and
          talking until five in the morning. Tonight she's in an
          hotel room in Liverpool, with a four poster bed and a
          four poster bathtub, "dead 
princess-like". She
          describes the telephone she's talking to me on as being
          gold with roses painted on it,  "Jeff 
Koons would love it". 
It sounds like they knew Björk was coming. . .
           . . .Dazed & Confused: How did you feel when you were
          losing your voice? 
          Björk Gudmundsdottir: I was basically faced with, 'If
          I can't sing, it's not only me and my life, but a lot
          of people rely on that', you know? It was kind of
          strange to be confronted with it. 
          D&C: But I heard that you had nodules (whatever they
          might be) on your throat. 
          BG:  I got nodules, but basically it is physical
          exhaustion. It's so clever the way the body
          functions; it makes you crash and makes you rethink
	  everything. 
          D&C: How long did you crash for? 
          BG: I crashed for a few days, but then I did the
          whole tour very carefully. I called it my 'monk tip'.
          So my last few months of touring has been Björk on the
          monk tip. If you're sort of really bored, Jefferson,
          and you want a new angle on life: don't do drugs, stop
          talking. It's amazing. The amount of energy that goes
          into communicating is just outrageous. And you end up
          just writing what is dead important. Everything becomes
          so precious. And it's very interesting. You start very
          quickly listening to completely different music as
          well, and reading completely different books and you
          get this urge for completely different films as well. 
          D&C: Are you at the end of your monk tip now? Are you
          talking more regularly to people?. . .
            
           . . .BG: I can still go completely bonkers.That's kind
          of how I was brought up, my drinking manners with my
          mates, was 'go for it', and do it for 12 hours and then
          don't do any of it for a month and I really like it
          like that. But it had become that I was going out all
          the time and it's not as precious. I went out last
          night and got drunk and it's like I've cleared up a lot
          crap, and I wake up like this rucksack full of rocks
          has been lifted off my shoulder. 
          D&C: For me it's definitely the other way round. If
          I've been out drinking I feel like I've got a rucksack
          full of stones lying on my head. 
          BG: Yeah, that's what it's like when you do it often.
          When you do it rarely and go all the way, it's better
          than any fucking psychotherapy. Because your body just
          screams for these needs and just goes and jumps on a
          table if your body needs to. 
          D&C: You've become very good at analysing your own
          psychology, working out what makes you tick. Have you
          ever been to see a psychiatrist? 
          BG: No. I want to be quite self-sufficient like that.
          I think people should only do that in the case of
          emergency, but at the end of the day you've got to
          learn to live with yourself and if you need constant
          assistance just to do that...  also I think you are
          supposed to be able to solve those things through
          friends and your relationship, not in an analysed,
          calculated manner, but in a free flowing, natural way,
          so you don't end up stuck with the same problems for
          ten years. . .
                        
          . . . D&C: When was the last time you cried? 
          BG: Listen, I cry all the time. I cried this morning.
          I'm over-emotional. 
          D&C: What was that all about? 
          BG: Well after my binge last night, we ended back at my
          house and I ended up in a one to one talk with one of
          my oldest friends and we were just crying, not because
          of sadness, but because (laughs), it sounds so wack
          now, we were being fragile, we weren't on drugs
          (laughing) just fragile, and when you feel too much in
          a happy way. 
          D&C: Close your eyes for a minute and tell me what you
          hear inside your head. 
          BG: (long pause). :It's some sort of movement similar
          to cream I think. You know when they squeeze the cream
          out of the gas thing. Like really pretty when It's got
          a spike at the top, and it's got a circle. Sort of slow
          circle movement in the same way whipped cream would
          move. Very still and very satisfied. 
          D&C: So you're happy at the moment.. 
          BG: You know this touring thing is definitely one of
          the most difficult things I've done, like an Indiana
          Jones thing, and me dealing with my body, like 'time's
          out, Björk'. 
          D&C: What were the overriding emotions you felt during
          this tour? 
          BG: Goldie was with us, and all of Goldie's crew and
          our crew got on and it was the best vibe on tour. 
          D&C: So how come you didn't ask Goldie to co-produce
          any of the songs on "Post"? 
          BG: I don't know really. It wasn't like I was trying to
          get the whole world on the album. 
          D&C: Yes it was. . .
            
           . . .BG: (laughs) Yeah, I know, it looks a bit like
          that. I'm very much a person who has intimate musical
          relationships with people and they are almost like love
          affairs, you see. But I'm very loyal. So me and Nellee
          got through half the album and then we just stopped
          turning each other on. We remained friends, but we
          would just kind of know each other's taste too much for
          it to be a surprise. And at that point I met Tricky, so
          we did those tunes, half of which have come out on my
          album, the other half is coming out on "Durban Poison". 
          D&C: And Graham Massey and Howie B, how did your
          personal relationship with them affect the music? 
          BG: The tunes I wrote with Graham, I actually wrote
          before "Debut", and I saved them for this. I met him in
          1990; that was when we were really sparking big time
          off each other, and for a few years we sent each other
          tapes, and then when I started doing "Debut " with
          Nellee it just became very obvious that it would end up
          as a very musical affair between me and Nellee. So I
          talked to Graham and decided to keep the other songs
          because they were just too different. So I saved "Army
          of Me" and "Modern Things" for this album, and then
          Howie has been one of my closest friends in England for
          over three years and that just kind of happened one
          afternoon. That song we wrote in an hour. 
          D&C: It's a very spontaneous-sounding song. 
          BG: It's not even produced, I just decided to keep it
          raw, like it is. (Pause). . .
                      
            
           . . .BG: I'm just going bonkers now, I had a three hour
          conversation with Nellee yesterday. I fucking wake up
          in the morning with a far too big heart, I don't know
          what to do with it really. I love so many people so
          deeply I could happily die now. It's scary. It's so
          scary it's outrageous. If it wasn't for my kid I
          would... emotionally-wise, I think I've achieved as
          much I think I can achieve 
          D&C: I don't think you have. 
          BG: But do you know what I mean? 
          D&C: No. But you've probably achieved more than what
          you think is possible... 
          BG: That's true... 
          D&C: But I don't believe that you've given as much as
          you're ever going to give. 
          BG: (sighs) And the band as well; when I went through
          my monk tip, they developed this amazing way to tell me
          jokes without making a noise, they worked their way
          around it. 
          D&C: It's funny because, when you're more serious, your
          accent is more British, and when you're speaking more
          emotionally it's more Icelandic. 
          BG: It's definitely that. For me Icelandic is my
          instinct and English is me being clever. Icelandic is
          unconscious and English is conscious. And when I speak
          English, especially when I do interviews and stuff, I
          can very easily see myself from the outside and
          describe myself. But then again I would have to be
          pretty stupid not to have developed that thing, because
          I've done interviews now for 900 years. But it's
          impossible for me to do interviews in Icelandic. I just
          listen to myself and I sound so fake and so terribly
          pretentious and so Little Miss Know-it-all, I just want
          to strangle myself. The Icelandic media is going
          bonkers because I do one interview there every five
          years. . .
          
          . . . D&C: Do you feel like you have multiple
          personalities you can switch into at any time to suit
          the mood or occasion? Like when you do interviews, or
          when you're with friends or when you're performing. Or
          do you feel a lot more sorted than that? 
          BG: I think I'm learning to combine them. And that's
          kind of what "Debut " and "Post " are all about. Like,
          I would love to do one experimental electronic song
          with Graham and the next day I would love to be a diva
          walking down the staircase being a drama queen. The day
          after, I would love to do a punk song, and that's very
          much how I've done my music so far, but I can feel very
          much that I'm starting to become more everything at
          once. Like I have one friend who I'm very humorous with
          and another friend whom I'm very sexy with; and another
          friend that protects me and another friend that I
          protect; but now I can see it, I'm not planning it or
          anything, I can just see myself being able to be
          everything with each person and just being more
          spontaneous about it, and just let it flow. But I think
          everyone is a bit like that and that is kind of the
          target; combine all those things without leaving any of
          them out. Because it's very tempting, as we grow up, to
          leave one of them out. 
          D&C: Are you in love at the moment? 
          BG: (Pause) I am, actually. I haven't eaten or slept
          for two weeks. 
          D&C: And there's me thinking that's because you've been
          working really hard, not shagging. 
          BG: But it doesn't really bother me. I just look at
          a plate of food and I just think it's rubbish. It looks
          like wood to me or coins. It's just impossible to put
          it inside my system - it's got nothing to do with
          me. . .
          . . . D&C: But you seem to fall in love very easily. 
          BG: I think my reputation has gone a bit funny, because
          I've got a lot of friends, but I get very precious when
          it comes to love things, you know? 
          D&C: What do you think your reputation is? 
          BG: I dunno, I guess everyone thinks I fall in love
          every five minutes, and I have nine boyfriends. 
          D&C: Yeah, they probably do. 
          BG: It's not true. 
          D&C: So you've just got one on the go? 
          BG: This is definitely the strongest, though for many,
          many years. I'm on natural E; I don't even want to
          drink, because that will make the feeling go away. I
          just have to drink one glass and push me a little bit
          up, and I'm ecstatic. 
          D&C: What's he like? Does he work in the same industry
          as you? 
          BG: Don't ask me please. (pause) Let's put it this way,
          I don't meet a lot of people other than the people I
          work with. You know, it's not like I hang out with shoe
          salesmen. Or gymnasts. 
          D&C: Or psychotherapists. 
          BG: Not in my line of work. 
          D&C: With you and Tricky. Why was it so short-lived? 
          BG: With me and Tricky I don't think we ever knew if we
          were going out together or not. I mean, we were going
          out together and then we weren't. Because, basically,
          the way our relationship functioned was that we were
          a support mechanism for each other, and we still have
          this kind of, like, permission to call each other in
          the middle of the night, when I'm in fucking Munich and
          he's in fucking Tokyo. It's a very strange job we've
          got, and we don't have to explain it: we know. And we
          know the pressure. So that's more what our relationship
          is like and still is. And I think it didn't last a long
          time before we realised that that is why we'd met and
          sucked like a magnet to each other. 
          D&C: So are you writing at the moment?. . . 
          
           . . .BG: Yeah. Pathetic Michael Jackson songs. (sings
          'Don't Stop ''Til You Get Enough') My next record is
          going to be happy Smurfs or something, I dunno. It's
          very happy, which makes a change. 
          D&C: Tell me about one song. Have you got one in your
          head at the moment? Apart from cream? 
          BG: It's very happy, very simple and very poppy. I
          usually have two at the same time. And they are usually
          opposite to each other. It's like that mood and that
          mood, black and white. I've got about five songs that I
          could go and record tomorrow. Basically, what happens
          to me is I write the melody first and then, if I work
          with someone, then the other person adds the other
          half. 
          D&C: So who's next on your hit list? 
          BG: I think I have to start being a bit
          self-sufficient. 
          D&C: Especially if you have to jump into the studio
          with some geezer every time you want to record a song. 
          BG: I just love doing music with people; it's the
          biggest kick ever. But what I need is patience to make
          the song finish in my head because now in my head I've
          got a lyric, a string arrangement, a bass line,
          the sounds, what instruments I want to use, I've got
          the rhythm, but if I would have met a person that I
          would have musically fallen in love with, say, in June,
          that probably meant that I would have only written
          the melody and the bass line by then, so he would have
          written the rest. But if I wait, I end up finishing
          the song myself. 
          D&C: What kind of person do you fall musically in love
          with? 
          BG: I want people to be strong characters and
          personalities; I thrive on that, I'm motivated by very
          strong characters, I don't get any kick out of bossing
          people around you see. . .
          
           . . .Paul Smith presents Björk with some more abstract,
          personal questions. The kind of things he likes to be
          asked when interviewed. 
          Paul Smith: Who is your favourite painter? 
          Björk Gudmundsdottir: Gerhard Richter. 
          PS: I recently went to see Christo's wrapping in Berlin.
          Have you seen any of his work? Do you like his work? 
          BG: I can't stand it. A lot of these people, like Andy
          Warhol and these pop people, get one idea and do it 900
          times; I can't stand these Philip Glass idiots. 
          PS: Do you get time to travel for pleasure, and if so
          where would you go? 
          BG: I love boats. I don't know if I've got any time though. 
          PS: Do you fancy Disneyland? 
          BG: I have a love/hate relationship with it. 
          PS: Do you find time to read? 
          BG: Yes. 
          PS: Do you have any sisters or brothers? 
          BG: Three sisters and three brothers. 
          PS: What do they do? 
          BG: They're all younger than me and still deciding what
          to do. 
          PS: Do you think that that kooky "Spitting Image"
          puppet of you relates to you in many ways? 
          BG: I missed it, but I like the singing with fax
          machine bit. 
          PS: You put on one of the best shows ever seen at any
          festival this year at Reading. Whose idea was it to
          have the burning Björk logo hoisted into the sky?. . .
                    
           . . .BG: It was a surprise. It was the people that set
          up the gig for me. 
          PS: What is your earliest and most vivid childhood
          memory? 
          BG: My first memory is being in a kindergarten and I
          refused to be one of the kids, I was always helping
          the ladies out. I remember putting butter and rye bread
          out for the kids. That's it really. 
          PS: What is your favourite animal? 
          BG: Polar bear. 
          PS: What do you fear most? 
          BG: Boredom. 
          PS: What car do you drive? 
          BG: I don't drive. 
          PS: What is your favourite number and why? 
          BG: Zero - a fresh start. 
          PS: What is your lucky charm? Mine is a rabbit. 
          BG: Mine is a silver sperm.
  
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