On 1993's Debut , she got off the Sugarcubes, trading spazzy, upbeat pop and the embarrassing hollered catchphrases of Einar Orn Benediktsson for a slightly more laidback songwriting approach. On 1995's Post , she soldered previously unimaginable electronic sounds to massive orchestras, creating an album of intense emotion and wild diversity. Then, only two years later, she proved capable of manipulating cutting-edge electronics with an almost prodigious ease on Homogenic , her darkest and most cohesive album to date. Given Bj rk's past reputation for burning pop rulebooks, Selmasongs should expand on her disregard for traditional song structures, and challenge listeners with inventive sounds and unconventional uses of new technology. In fact, Selmasongs breaks no new ground whatsoever for the Icelandic composer, instead dwelling in more comfortable regions already mapped by Homogenic .
Muted horns echo distantly and gradually swell into a brief, subdued triumph.
Tympani pounds beneath the gigantic sound, seemingly announcing the arrival of Arthur Clarke's 2001 monolith. But what comes next is far from evolution. As the tapping morphs into a generic hip-hop beat, vibes cascade eerily over Bj rk's trademark crooned vocals. Sadly, the melody is lifeless and predictable, and song's chorus, bad enough the first time around, is beaten into oblivion. And lives that were over before they were spent.