The moment a song is born, the world is different. It’s now a part of our lives. We sing it in the shower. We dance to it at our wedding. We get pumped with it. We break up to it. We memorize it. We try to forget it. We rediscover it. This month, I’m joining Arron Wright’s Twitter music challenge: ##Popiversary2. Because why the hell not. Songs deserve their own anniversaries, too.
Year: 1993
I’ll admit, while I liked a small handful of Sugarcubes tracks (“Hit”, “Leash Called Love”, “Motorcycle” to name a few), the band as a whole were just a little too cooky for me. Especially with the guy exclaiming random things into the mic. Why not just leave the vocals to Bjork? So, the minute Bjork went solo, I think that’s when things got a whole lot better. I thought her music got instantly stronger, smarter and more poignant. It all started with an opening track called “Human Behaviour”.
Like her vocals with the Sugarcubes, the song still had her signature vocal gymnastics. It’s like she’s warming up in front of us and blowing our minds from the get go. And the singing is gorgeous. But where things diverge are in the instrumentation. “Human Behavior” was still experimental and imaginative, but it wasn’t fraught with a dual personality dynamic. The song, in its entirety, was going in a single direction that was exciting and cool.
“If you ever get close to a human and human behavior, be ready, be ready to get confused and me and my here after. There's definitely, definitely, definitely no logic to human behavior.”