The 1990s in 10 Albums: Homogenic (1997)
How Scandinavian of me.
The 1990s were an age of excess, but unlike other decades — the 1970s, the 1920s — it hasn’t gained that reputation. It’s there, though. Case in point: Homogenic is the shortest album in this series, and one of just two under 50 minutes; only this and earlier entry Automatic for the People could’ve comfortably fitted on a single vinyl disc, had they been released 20 years earlier. The double album became routine, but the goalposts moved, allowing the trend to become invisible.
By 1997, Bjork had seen enough excess, right down to crazed, ostensible fans sending mail bombs. The grab-bag natures of Debut and Post disappeared with Homogenic, whose ten songs achieved — not uniformity of mood, but a network of them.
“Hunter”, the opener, is illustrative of this. Glass harmonica, martial kick drums deployed like snares (something underscored by snares emerging with the same pattern later on) and echo-y vocal harmonies are typical of the album. “Hunter”, though, is also unique — like the soundtrack to Bjork’s take on a Tom Clancy technothriller (don’t lie: if you’re reading this, you’d watch/read said work).
“Joga” and “Unravel” are more like various parts of Lord of the Rings, although this undersells them. In “Joga”, most obviously, you can hear beats constructed from volcanic activity, a noise both percussive and geologic, suited for sweeping shots across vast plains and mountain ranges. “Unravel” is the smaller-scale approach, some tragic romance within an elven realm. Here, Bjork having English as a second language twists otherwise ordinary sentiment. “He’ll never return,” she laments, “you’ll have to make new love.” Make, not find. All is ruins.
It doesn’t get much better on “Bachelorette”, Bjork’s own kind of special epic, perhaps the closest thing she’s made to a Massive Attack song (the banging, low-end piano chords in particular are a little like a faster, prototype “Teardrop”). “All Neon Like” might represent the low point of this trajectory, but at this point there’s signs of a comeback. The beat might be fuzzy, but it’s a consistent march forward, the assurance that “I’ll heal you” a sign that — from within or without — help is coming.
The second half of the album is the fightback — “5 Years” and “Pluto” in particular, two songs of lyrical and musical aggression. By the end of the album, with “Alarm Call” and “All is Full of Love”, there’s a suggestion that this emotional valley is being left behind.
Is Homogenic a classic? It’s probably Bjork’s best album; her 2010s albums, particularly Vulnicura (2015) and Utopia (2017) are strong efforts, but also impenetrable works (Vulnicura in particular is not an album to listen to if you’re not in the mood, but Utopia also has a potential to grate if your mindset doesn’t align). Medulla (2004) is arguably more radical, almost entirely forgoing instruments, but on some tracks (“Ancestors” and its off-putting throat singing) it maybe keeps things too pure. Vespertine (2001) might even be better on a song-by-song basis, but it’s less radical, as are her earlier albums.
Homogenic manages to balance all of these impulses: both accessible and radical, tortured and upbeat, a definite, unified concept but remarkable range within it. There are nitpicks to be made — the single version of “All is Full of Love” would have probably been a better closing track (and of course, in an MP3 age the tracks can be swapped out anyway). In the end, though, it could be argued that a great album, worthy of the label ‘classic’, has to be more than just a bunch of good songs, and Homogenic is a strong demonstration of how.
