The jazz singer that Björk labelled as “vocalist of the century”
“There was an instant crash of admiration,” Spanish visionary Rosalía recently said of her experimental partner in crime, Björk.
The two had previously collaborated on the charity single ‘Oral’ in 2023, with Rosalía already aware of how high the Icelandic singer set the bar, so working with her on the latest single, ‘Berghain’, was something of an embarrassment of riches. She initially sent Björk ideas for the track, who then came back with a melody, turning it from a theatrical orchestral piece into something with teeth.
More than anybody else, perhaps in the entirety of music history, Björk enjoys the ability to reach into the depths of every corner of the world around her and see it through the eyes of a true visionary, piecing together all facets of what makes us human and pouring it into world-class art. She’s also one of the most innovative artists that ever existed, especially when you look at projects like Medúlla, which shunned traditional instruments in favour of a more organic sound and feel.
And with others, like Biophilia, Björk looks at the naturalistic elements of the world and creates music based on the deeper implications of existence, how we battle with our own connection to nature and the malaise that comes with separating ourselves from it. She’s well-versed in the practice of evoking emotion in louder and subtler ways, both by using her own voice as a tool for expression and playing with sound dynamics to tell her stories, making her a sonic master in realising such complex themes.
Björk has her own set of influences, many you’ve probably never even heard of, but one that left a particularly profound impression on her is Chet Baker, whom she discovered much later and who drew her in with his unmatched vocal ability. In 1993, she praised his work to Q magazine, saying, “I’d say Baker is my favourite vocalist of the century. There were two albums, both with the same title, ridiculously, which were released with Bruce Weber’s film of his life, Let’s Get Lost. One was recorded when the film was being made, when he was older, and the other with all the stuff he sang when he was young, which I prefer.”
She went on, saying that he’s not a major influence because she heard him much later in life. But he’s the “only singer I’ve ever been able to identify with” because he’s “so expressive, so over-emotional”. She explained, “It’s classic stuff; it makes me soft in my knees. He was a bit of a heroin casualty, silly guy, but you couldn’t tell he had a habit when he was younger. He was so into it, like, ’fuck those notes I’m singing, and fuck those songs I’m singing, what I want is the emotion’. That’s how I feel about it too.”
Even after so many years in the game, you can see and hear that fire that Björk has had since day one, and the same kind that she also recognised in singers like Baker. It’s the one you immediately recognise that also has that familiar evocative pull, like her verse in Rosalía’s ‘Berghain’, where she executes her signature rumination on the pull of nature and forces that we can’t always see.
“His fear is my fear / His anger is my anger,” she sings. “His love is my love / His blood is my blood / The only way to save us is through divine intervention / The only way I will be saved (Is through) divine intervention”.
