Biophilia: Björk’s essential lessons in the human connection to nature
We all know Björk as the quirky Icelandic singer whose experimentalism either enlightens or divides. However, rarely do we give credence to her ability to expose the earth’s elements, framing its complex makeup in a rather abstract manner. Björk forces us to reconnect with the natural world and find solace in not knowing all the answers, so long as we put down our mobile devices for long enough to truly take it all in.
Rather than an album, think of Biophilia more as a museum that we attend for the purpose of learning and bettering ourselves. By definition, ‘biophilia’ means possessing an innate love and appreciation for all things nature. The concept suggests that we are born with this fixation but lose it due to the digital-first nature of the modern world. Remember being a kid? When you could enjoy the simplicity of the grass or the hilarity of a broken pencil – Biophilia is, of course, a lot more complex than this, but the basic premise remains the same.
In Biophilia, Björk foremost addresses the notion of seeking mentorship in nature. Two standouts, ‘Crystalline’ and ‘Moon’, evoke this sense of cosmic grandeur, where traversing various biological wonders can enlighten and enthral us. In a rather sobering fashion, the singer criticises human nature, claiming that we search endlessly for love and acceptance, forgetting the fact that it’s there all along, waiting to be rediscovered.
In ‘Crystalline’, the singer also opines that we “mimic the openness of the ones we love, daft ’til our generosity equalised the flow.” In this way, Björk suggests that human instinct and the natural world have more to learn from each other and often intertwine, so long as we’re open and willing to relinquish control and listen and feel instead.
The album also delves into the inherent musicality of the natural world. In songs like ‘Cosmogony’, Björk emulates the sound and feel of a storm, which builds and builds until eventually the rain hits. The ethereal chimes align well with Björk’s lyrics as she toys with feelings of meditation and how music can cross over into ambient sounds, warm and comforting in the unusual arrangements.
While other songs delve into metaphysical senses, ‘Cosmogony’ tackles philosophy and the intimacy of our time on earth. According to the singer, this track was the “music of the spheres,” meaning that it speaks to the inevitability of life, tackling “harmony and equilibrium” while demonstrating the way that “there’s a place for every little thing” in the universe.
There’s wonder throughout much of Biophilia, but Björk is also realistic regarding the growing concerns about the environment. In ‘Thunderbolt’, for instance, she expresses her desire to be struck by a bolt of lightning or hit by crashing waves, but in a way that communicates strength, appetite, and desire. She discusses her need to embrace “universal intimacy” and her tendency to be “craving miracles”. The arrangements create an impulse that forces you along with it, while its stark honesty symbolises resilience and the strength of its deeper message.
Biophilia isn’t a traditional album, but nature is. In some way, there’s something to be said about the difficulty most people experience when attempting to embrace such music. This is something that intends, at its very core, to emulate the most natural thing in the world. ‘Moon’, as its name suggests, was written to represent the different lunar cycles. However, the song, much like most of the project, isn’t as easy to swallow as concepts of the various sequences of the moon.
Therefore, in the most innovative way possible, Björk forces the listener to confront the fundamental elements of discovery and disconnection, urging us to reconnect with the natural world that sustains us. The music sounds fragile, like it could crack at any moment, much like our planet itself – but truly embellishing this fact and taking it in proves difficult, even if we feel ready for its illumination.