Birthday

It’s very uncomfortable for me to sing a song unless every word is thought of, and very carefully put down, murmurs Bjork. I never vary with the words. `Birthday’ was first going to be about a man who sells ... food ?

A grocer, points out Einar, who doubles as a brilliant walking dictionary.

Yes, a grocer, very close to me, in a little shop. But then I found out it was about some old guy who’s living close to me ... it changed very often. Then finally, I just had to write it down, and I sort of collected memories together in my head of ... like, when I was a kid, all old men that influenced me sort of erotically, without doing anything, really. Men at 50 and stuff like that. But, you know, without doing anything ... so that’s the feeling.

For me, says Einar, because I don’t sing on this track, I play trumpet, it is a menace that lurks behind these words. A menace like when Frank Zappa said, If she were my daughter I’d ahhhh...! You remember that ?

It was only an atmosphere I was trying to describe, says Bjork. The only thing I was doing consciously, that was mixing together pure innocence and pure ... well, not danger, but something, you know, evil. Evil in an unreal way.

Einar : Evil innocence.