I try to imagine myself when I was younger.
Daytime was spent in the
musty classrooms of
Queen E, where the teachers were nice, and the friends were ok, but
asbestos hid behind every corner. After school was a bit of time on the
Super Nintendo, a little less watching TV, and even less spent studying. I had no
obsessions. I imagine that most people have found something to occupy them by high school, whether it's
sports, or
computers, or
video games. I hadn't really enjoyed sports since an
injury playing
football knocked me out of school for
a whole month, and
computers were fun, but I wasn't really sitting on the
bleeding edge with my
Apple IIgs or my
486SX/25. And video games... were fun, but I couldn't obsess over them like some of my friends, though I did like to play
Doom over the
modem. I don't think I even realized at the time that something was missing. But then I guess it's at times like these when something comes along.
For me it was Isobel. We'd just gotten the slightly extended cable package so I could watch Muchmusic. One day, flipping through the channels, on came a flickering black and white picture. Then the tribal drums. And then, Bjork. I had never heard a voice like that before, and all I wanted to do was sit there and let it resonate around me and throughout the room. The orchestra swelled and then ebbed, and with Bjork's "Na na na"s the song and image faded out. I felt the shiver and the shine like the moment when you let your hand hold someone else's and all of a sudden you just know. But at that moment, I hadn't just been taken by Bjork, but by music. The next day I rode my bike to A&B Sound, and bought Post, the first of many albums by many artists that I would make my own.
For the next two years, Post became the soundtrack of my life. It was the first album that I had bought for myself. There were other cassettes and CDs that I owned, but they were gotten more out of a need to know what the other kids knew, rather than to actually listen to the songs. Post was the first album I really listened to. I took it everywhere. During the day, it lived in my school bag, inside a newly bought Discman. In the evenings, it played in the CD-ROM while I typed short essays for school in Wordperfect. Taking it to school was a tough decision. I was at an age where even wearing funky socks could get your sexual orientation questioned by classmates, and at first I was a little wary of carrying a bright orange and pink CD case emblazoned with the image of Bjork wearing funky clothes, and computer generated flowers. I got over that quickly enough though. It became almost a point of pride for me. While other people at school raved about Boyz II Men or Mariah Carey, I was perfectly happy listening to my Icelandic songstress.
I used to lie in the light of the sun coming through the glass door of my house listening to Post. Depending on my mood, I would skip Army of Me. If the day up until that point had been an ordeal of some sort, if someone or something was annoying me, I would let it play. But if it had been a good day, I would push the skip button, but only after I had heard the line "And if you complain once more, you'll meet an army of me." Then Hyperballad would begin with the sound of a synthetic furry bass. It annoyed me to no end that my cheap earphones would sometimes buzz because of the bass, but most of the time it was ok. The song would slowly build up, until the strings and drums and spacey synth sounds all kicked in, and Bjork's voice, singing "Safe up here with you" echoed and bounced between both sides of my head. I liked The Modern Things for the way Bjork's voice gurgled and bubbled and huffed in a language that I suspected was Icelandic, and I liked It's Oh So Quiet for the moments that it bursts. After listening to the album enough, the next three songs became sort of a medley to me. Enjoy's menancingly unrestrainable momentum leads into the sweet, quiet discovery of You've Been Flirting Again. Isobel concludes things with a musical chase through shadowy woods. Possibly Maybe was a song that made me feel light, even when I was climbing out of the deepest depths of high school life. Listening to the lyrics and the way that Bjork sings them, curling her tongue around syllables and rolling them around her mouth, I could see her before the mic in the studio, her eyes closed, with a smile on the verge of giddy laughter. The staccato I Miss You was more openly giddy, and lying in the sun, my fingernails would tap along to the beat on the linoleum floor. After I Miss You, there were still two songs left, but I would leave them until I went to bed.
Genius to
Fall asleep to your
Tape last night
I don't know how many times I fell asleep listening to the last two songs on Post. Different from the track listing above, my CD ended after Headphones, which was perfect for me. Cover Me is a creepy song. The sound of a harp would strike out from the darkness, strange rattling would come near, and then scurry away. The way it segues into Headphones is like when a campfire dies down, when the flames fade away and leave only orange embers. Bjork's voice whispers, and then awakes into a flourish, only to quiet again. But by then I'd be asleep.
My headphones
They saved my life
Your tape
It lulled me to sleep
After Post, things were never quite the same. I started really listening to music, trying to pick out sounds hidden beneath other sounds. I began to hear texture and color in music. I analyzed lyrics. I got into different kinds of books. Reading about Bjork, I learned her favorite story was called "The Story Of The Eye". I got an excerpt from someone on the BEP mailing list, and although I didn't go on a binge of erotic fiction, it turned me on to books more dangerous and far more interesting than Tom Clancy. In a way, I got started on the internet because of Post. One of my first bookmarks was to Websense, I learned what newsgroups were from alt.music.bjork, and I began to think of the internet more as a community through all the fansites that I saw. I learned what 127.0.0.1 was because of Bjork (or rather from someone on the BEP mailing list.) Most significant though, was the way music entered my life after that. Now I can't stand a silent moment. On the train, in the car, or walking through the street, and at home, I always have something playing. Post was the CD that got me listening to music.
I've had a few "landmark" albums in my life since then. Some are more memorable than others, but Post was the one that started it all for me.
Please forgive the omission of umlauts.