At the age of seven, I was one of the masses first exposed to Björk during the time when her second single from Post, “It’s Oh So Quiet”, was all over the airwaves way back in 1995. I just remember finding her incredibly intriguing by how boisterous and fearless she sounded, at least whenever she came on the car radio. The vibrant song came to life with its horns and those intense vocals, all juxtaposed by dreamy polished arrangements and playful whispers. Looking back, those elements really made for a memorable listening experience, and one that still resonates ’til this day.

But like a lot of seven-year-old kids, we make our decisions based on impulse. Some decisions turn out for the worse, others turn out for the better. When I look back and question my taste in music during my youth, a large chunk of my CD collection suggests that I made some unwise choices at the checkout counter of my hometown’s music store, Streetside Records. I couldn’t tell you how many times I was duped into buying full-length albums that only had that one mega hit song that prompted you to buy it in the first place, leaving a letdown of 11 or 12 filler tracks. Do one-hit-wonders from the nineties like Chumbawamba, Eiffel 65, or Lou Bega ring a bell? Yeah, I was all over that sort of stuff. If it wasn’t recognized by Billboard, it didn’t exist to me.

After her position on the pop charts began to drop from “It’s Oh So Quiet”, Björk never saw that type of attention from mainstream listeners and media again, save for when she attacked that Filipino journalist or what everyone recognizes as “the Swan dress incident.” How could anyone forget the gossip? Like the rest of America, I treated Björk like any other one-hit-wonder. I bought Post at the height of her popularity, but shortly forgot about it when the next big thing came out. It wasn’t until years later during high school when I rekindled my love for Björk. High school is such a nostalgic period of my life because all the art, music, and books that I obsessed over those few years still are immensely important to me. One day, while I was stumbling around on the internet, I came across Björk’s robotic romance music video for “All Is Full Of Love”. I was absolutely blown away, dubious to believe that this was that foreign singer who had that one catchy song everyone liked for about a month or two in ’95. I later went to my CD collection to find my Post CD scratched and beat up, but playable nevertheless.

Playing it safe has never been Björk’s strong suit and Post is a screaming example of her aptitude to innovate music. Innovation in the case of this album came from a collection of artists, mainly including Graham Massey of 808 State and producer/DJ Howie B., with little assistance from growingly trendy producer Nellee Hooper, who at the time was in the throes of producing Madonna’s Bedtime Stories. Björk reached out to work with Hooper because she already knew his potential as he served as the sonic mastermind behind her first solo album, Debut. Hooper’s demand by high-profile artists subsequently led to a smaller contribution to Post, but his suggestions on where to record and what the album should sound like were taken into account. As Björk and her team were laying the groundwork for the album’s production, Hooper pushed the idea of recording outdoors for a more organic end product and the Icelandic artist could not have agreed more. Björk and her legion of helpers needed a place to record that was warm because it was winter at the time. After some deliberation, Björk and friends had their eyes on recording where the beaches are sandy white and the serenity is pervasive – What place better than the Bahamas?

When edits and enhancements were not being done in Nassau’s Compass Point studios, Björk was out on the beaches meandering in solitude with a hand-held microphone recording on tape. The tropical paradise free of noisy machinery and bustling crowds was what Björk needed to be completely herself and to only be fettered, yet painstakingly inspired by the physical earth itself.

The creative freedom that Björk took advantage of, namely a beachfront recording studio, comes through in the raw intensity and humanly emotive aspects of the album. But this project still needed some tweaking, and thus Björk and her team returned to London for a few more finishing touches. This involved incorporating synthesizers, compressors, and other computer-generated sounds that were becoming increasingly popular in the mid-nineties, especially in the dance clubs of metropolitan areas in England like Bristol.

The first glance of the album’s cover art is a hazy melting pot of colors and designs that look as if they are moving in unpredictable directions, and from a vortex of reckless wind that has no destination. What is that pink halo-like object around Björk’s head, too? Is she the creator of the chaotic mess that is behind her? Technically no, she isn’t. Designer, Paul White takes the credit for the artwork here, but I like to pretend that she designed her album’s cover because the artwork is an incredible visual parallel of what Post encompasses. With a careful eye you can see that the hodgepodge of weirdness behind are an array of seams, lines, and layers that make up panels of various styles and influences used to make Post. Some of these styles and influences are more prominent than others, especially where they are placed in the composition and how they are blended with others. Clearer panel divides suggest that these styles and influences are meant to come through soundly, but the panels that are layered over and spliced by bigger panels are the ones that are the most eclectic, the most mesmerizing. Whether or not these aspects landed on the album by a trick of fate or by intention, they represent the special, more important aspects of the album.

Post captures the essence of how turbulent human emotions can be. The darkest and most sinister moments lie within the opening track, “Army of Me”, as she demands “self-sufficience, please” and to “get to work.” Behind her vocals are brash cymbal crashes and menacing, suspensful drum beats. Gameboy-like sound clips and apocalyptic noises make for a virtual world in “Army of Me” and its menacing attitude is too big of a force to not help but fear.

There are heaps of moments on Post that are just as extroverted and willing to confront the people and things that are making her experience whatever it is that she is feeling, but the frustration that is channeled through the abrasive industrial drum lines and her direct demands in her lyricism is not a common theme here. Most of the songs here are on the subject of love and Björk affirms the fact that love is a constant battle and, sometimes, that solitary introspective time is a good way of making sense of it all. She gives insight into her inner battles, and the courage that went into making these songs cannot be denied.

There are times of immaturity and shyness, but they are just reactions to experiences too overwhelming or uncontrollable. “Possibly Maybe” is a downtempo recount of a tumultuous connection made with a person that is completely unpredictable and the exhaustion of guessing what’s to come of it all is just too much for her.

While emotions bleed through lyrically, you can bet they are in her vocal techniques, too. Björk and the trip-hop star Tricky reportedly dated during the time Post was in production and the song ‘Enjoy’ is said to be linked to their love affair. The rage of this song parallels what is heard on “Army of Me”, but there is something else here to appreciate. There is this potent internal opposition to staying domestic and being faithful to Tricky because she knows that there’s more that she wants (“Look at speed out there, it magnetizes me to it”). However, there is a feeling of guilt mixed with a desire to keep her relationship alive and even if you didn’t know English, it’s evident that her stammers and stutters in the first verse embody the agony of voicing what it is she really wants.

Elements of dance and trance pervade throughout this album and we can thank the group’s time in London for that. From saintly synths juxtaposed against low dramatic bass lines (“Hyper-Ballad’) and the Latin influences (“I Miss You”), the mix of traditional musical pleasures with new computer generated contributions make for an intriguing listening experience. Its pulses of electricity with high-running energy and passion are mainstays in Björk’s dancier repertoire and they do nothing but awe.

Allowing the album to play passed “It’s Oh So Quiet” was like realizing that your old ratty collection of baseball cards became worth big money. Looking back at my early years, all I wanted from music was a hit song to love and then leave. I went through music like Hugh Hefner goes through his Playboy bunnies, but I’m a changed man now, engrossed in a quest for music that I can grow old with like I will with Post.