Icelandic music icon, Björk
© Vidar Logi
Music

Bjork: Foraging for inspiration

The innovative Icelander on being inspired by mushrooms—and forging her own unique path through the music industry.
By Marcel Anders
5 min readPublished on
Björk is explaining that, contrary to reports, she didn’t eat chocolate pudding every day during the pandemic. “I was trying to say I enjoyed [being at home] so much that it was like eating chocolate pudding every day,” she says. “I think this is my clumsy way of speaking English. I meant I just enjoyed it so much, it was like melting into chocolate or something.”
I think all music has no limits – it’s about your imagination and your mindset
Bjork
The 56-year-old Icelander is speaking from her home in Reykjavík, a place that inspired her latest release, Fossora—her own twist on a Latin word, meaning “she who digs”— which Björk describes as her “mushroom album.” It was made after the long period spent at home during the pandemic, when, she says, it felt like we were all putting down roots.
Fossora is as innovative and daring as you’d expect from an artist who has made a career of being uncompromisingly inventive. And this gives her music its own deep roots— Björk says she’s just doing what she’s done since the age of 14.

THE RED BULLETIN: Your music is as inventive as ever. For example, the track “Trölla- Gabba”—was it inspired by your idea of a troll party?

BJORK: Well, I know I listen to it when I’m a troll. I think we’re all a troll sometimes—we sometimes feel like a delicate cat or bird or something, and sometimes a troll. And when we feel like a troll, we want to just jump up and down with our fist in the air and get some cathartic release. It’s important to dance regularly, all the way to your old age, as part of your lifestyle.

When it comes to music, you’re always searching for the unknown. Why is that important?

I get very excited when I hear something [new]. Nature has made us in a way that we change every seven years—we have a totally new set of cells, we’re different people. And I think it’s important to push our emotional and psychological growth all the way until we’re 85—or however long we live— to be aware of it and open, and to throw away enough garbage in our lives that we can keep growing. Scientists who have studied the brain notice that if you listen to a new song you’ve never heard before, your brain makes a new territory for it. If you only listen to your old favorite songs, the music part of your brain doesn’t grow.

Which makes electronic music the perfect playground for you, as there are no limits ...

think all music has no limits— it’s about your imagination and your mindset. I think you can do any genre in a stagnant way, and you can do every genre in an imaginative way. So maybe that’s not about the genre so much as whatever you put into the song you are making is there, but if you don’t put it there, it’s not there.

As an established music artist, can you create without restrictions?

To be honest, I’ve always done that, since I was a teenager. I was in punk bands, and we were on an indie label in Iceland—it wasn’t about making money. If somebody needed a poster, I would make a poster; if somebody needed an album cover, somebody made an album cover. I come from this DIY background, since I was 14 years old, where you don’t have to sell your soul to the corporations to be a musician. This kind of mythology of the corporate record company coming on a white horse to sign you and [save you], but then if they drop you, you are a loser . . . it’s a fiction. It’s a totally fabricated drama that has nothing to do with music. I feel very blessed that I was 14 and surrounded by people who were older than me, so the philosophy from the beginning was: It’s better to have total creative control and sell three copies than to compromise.

As an established music artist, can you create without restrictions?

To be honest, I’ve always done that, since I was a teenager. I was in punk bands, and we were on an indie label in Iceland – it wasn’t about making money. If somebody needed a poster, I would make a poster; if somebody needed an album cover, somebody made an album cover. I come from this DIY background, since I was 14 years old, where you don’t have to sell your soul to the corporations to be a musician. This kind of mythology of the corporate record company coming on a white horse to sign you and [save you], but then if they drop you, you are a loser... it’s a fiction. It’s a totally fabricated drama that has nothing to do with music. I feel very blessed that I was 14 and surrounded by people who were older than me, so the philosophy from the beginning was: it’s better to have total creative control and sell three copies than to compromise.

And you’ve stuck to that?

Yes, nothing has really changed —I’m still doing the same thing I did as a teenager. If you always own your work and you are your own creative control and you own your masters, you can do what you want for the rest of your life. If a lot of people like it, that’s a bonus, but I’ve always been very aware that one day it could all go away. I would still keep making music. Mine is a business model that will probably last a lifetime. And even when only two people are listening to me when I’m 85 or whatever, it will still be a good business model.