This interview appeared in the spring issue of SIREN music magazine just before the band split in the winter of the same year and Bjork embarked on her solo career. 

Bjork’s understanding of music and her vision was evident in this interview. Her love of big bands is referenced here (for the first time) an aesthetic that filtered into her own music, especially  ‘It’s Oh So Quiet’, which became her best-selling single and was certified gold by BPI. 

‘Human Behaviour’, was her first UK single, one of five that came off the album, Debut (One Little Indian), which reached Number 3 in the UK charts. In this interview, some of the thought processes that influenced her lyrics in her debut album are evidently brewing. I’d be interested in your comments after the reading. To my mind, Sugarcubes knew they were disbanding before the year was out, despite the probably contractual loyalty to One Little Indian and the promotional focus on the single ‘Hit’ and forthcoming album and single ‘Walkabout’. Bjork’s future in London was already set.

Bjork had already come to London alone to record with 808 State and perform at their infamous all night parties.  The multi cultural sound of a city, in contrast to Iceland where if you’re in a scene you soon know everybody else, is evident in this interview by the passion in which she describes being part of history; being in the middle of a new scene or trend, playing beat, rhythm, composition and production detective with emerging genres and, searching out music’s great legacy. She reflects a worldly understanding of love and relationships that shares an affection for human kind and I think she was bored with Sugarcubes latest offerings, lyrics which seemed to take the piss out of these fractious and precious things. When the boys left the interview, I stayed to chat with Magga (keyboards) and Bjork (vocals) and kept recording. Transcribing this interview I have got the sense that Magga was deflecting Bjork’s musings – in case the interview turned into her emotive announcing of her plans for a solo career. I’d be interested to know what you think? This woman was excited about her future and everyone else was winding down.

She has since produced: eleven studio albums, two soundtrack albums, one compilation album, six remix albums, seven live albums, four box sets, three collaboration albums, forty-one singles, ten promotional singles and eight remixes series. All snapshots of human behaviour without explanation. 

Background in popular music culture (and deconstruction)

In 1992 the weekly music newspapers – New Musical Express, Melody Maker and Sounds, as well as Rolling Stone and Wire, across the ocean, were all-powerful as were, equally, the independent magazines and fanzines that were also booming. This interview was in the independent SIREN magazine, edited by Mick Mercer, who also worked at the Melody Maker. Journalists didn’t get to write our own introduction blurb (standfirst or strapline), titles, sub titles or pull out quotes and photo comments.

The mainstream music press was influenced by the myth and writing style of Rolling Stone’s original writers’ of Gonzo journalism, such as Hunter S Thompson (Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas) and Lester Bangs, in turn influenced by a style of American literature, found in the work of writers like John Steinbeck (Grapes of Wrath).

Many undergraduate and postgraduate papers have focused on the fact that this style of journalism, decisions over content, images, tag lines and so on are gendered, arguably racist and prejudiced.

This sentence from me reflects prejudice with regard to a stereotypical understanding of Icelandic people which came from the visual images in literature and media. 

“… she’s not dressed as she is ordinarily, it’s as if she’s playing Hansel in a David Lynch version of a hew fairytale Hansel and Gretel.” 

At the time I was reading an influential book called Women Who Run With Wolves, in which the true root narrative of fairy tales are shared and deconstructed with an essentialist feminist viewpoint. I also broke my own rule: don’t talk about what she’s wearing, to some extent, in this section. I wanted to get across the Bjork as a real human being, not a pixie, faerie or kooky girl as previous observations. In the interview Bjork says:

“At first it was funny for us. It really was just like putting on a costume but it got tiresome, mainly because people couldn’t deal with meeting us in person, facing the fact that they were dealing with human beings.”

The quote also reflects that the novelty of being Sugarcubes was wearing off.

Another error on my part was the assumption of heterosexuality and the binary values and stereotypes that are seen as natural, but really cultural. I learned this after reading Judith Butler, Gender Trouble (1990) and applied the learning in my experience as a section editor for http://www.thegirlsaare.com, now defunct, where LGBTQ+ writers and readership were in the majority.

Back in the hey day of music journalism, young writers from the mainstream music papers, like myself, cut their teeth with the independent magazines and fanzines  in order to develop their own take on the language of music criticism. I was told by a friend at NME that if I wanted to graduate to feature spreads and interviews I would need to go to university and write essays; learn how to grasp writing long-form pieces and holding a concept throughout. Reading back through the features that I’m now transcribing for Taking Control, I think I was already pretty good. At the time I wouldn’t have read it back because I would have been on to the next thing in this case P. J. Harvey’s first feature interview. The irony is that NME was supposedly the punk paper and my paper, Melody Maker, recruited Oxbridge writers in the 80s. 

 In 1992 Reading there was a shift from metal to indie and rock bands and the audience type.

I wanted it to mark a change in the perception of women in rock music and a sound that required good original description in the review, but when tasked with collecting soundbytes from the audience for Melody Maker the reality was not as close to the dream. Follow through that story here in What Did Riot Grrrl Ever Do For Us? Part 1.

Kurt Cobain wore a skirt and referenced a women powered UK punk band, The Slits, as a major influence in his journey.

I saw Sugarcubes live for the first time and I didn’t see a fresh pop ideology. 

I am a massive Bjork fan.

the original interview:

tHINGS THAT GO LUMP IN THE NIGHT

Lodged firmly back inside the hearts and minds of those who loved them, uvrr thought they’d blown it, THE SUGARCUBES have had their comeback hit and an album which saved their reputation. Here Magga and Bjork get wistful over the lovelier aspects of life. Words: Ngaire Pictures: Ian Tilton 

Watching Bjork on the Sugarcubes video of ‘Hit’, the song which swiftly revived Britain’s dwindling admiration of the eclectic Icelanders, and meeting her in person today, prove her to be an equally absorbing character. Although she’s not dressed as she is ordinarily, it’s as if she’s playing Hansel in a David Lynch version of a hew fairytale Hansel and Gretel.

It’s pretty clear that she needed all her willpower to drag herself out of bed this morning. Her face is scrubbed, almost squashed, and her hair is every which way. She has no laces in her shoes either; her son has borrowed them for a game he’s playing upstairs with his Ninja Turtles. 

GAMES

For the Sugarcubes going abroad is like playing a game,” says Bjork, leaning forward, closer. ”It’s like Monopoly or something. We sit down with these very serious people to discuss a (supposedly) major decision in our life, like whether our tee shirts will be blue or red, or when we should release our single. The only way to deal with it, without going cuckoo, is to do it with a sense of humour.

   “You see when they discovered us, as they called it, although we’d been around for years before they found ‘Birthday’, they wanted us to rescue them from their boredom. They wanted us to be the ideologists of the next pop. They called us Eskimp weirdos, surrealists… intellectuals. 

   “At first it was funny for us. It really was just like putting on a costume but it got tiresome, mainly because people couldn’t deal with meeting us in person, facing the fact that they were dealing with human beings.”

She sighs. She laughs. 

Every game has its rules, and neither are they simply about winners and losers. You know the Sugarcubes story. Britain loved the first LP, Lifes Too Good (which included the famous ‘Birthday’). At their concerts hardcore punks willingly aped curious bunny rabbits and goths sang while smiling. Heavy metal freaks were known to cry over the thrill of it all. Journalists regarded such antics as a unique pop ideology at work. And, if you insist on being technical, instead of emotional, the term does fit. 

Bjork considers the comment. 

“Maybe people’s ideas about us are closer to something than we know. I kind of like the overall feel of how we’ve been conceived, but it’s not perfect. Only one of us was a member of the surrealist movement in Iceland (Thor), and two of them would rather consider themselves poets than pop musicians anyway. None of us are into being factory pop musicians.”

The second EP Here Today Tomorow Next Week was compared to the first and generally considered a massive disappointment, with the majority of the opinion that MC Einar’s vocal pranks were now getting out of hand. Big deal, thought the Sugarcubes,  as they went back about their normal business. 

“We wouldn’t drop dead if things didn’t work out,” says Bjork. “Our lifetime ambition isn’t to appear on Top of the Pops. I mean it’s fun when it happens. The Sugarubes are important, but there are certain lines which we don’t cross. People like our record company, and the press don’t get that. The way the media see us, particularly in Britain, is always so black and white.”

In between albums two and three, Marka worked in a shop, and Einer, as a journalist for a magazine. In the meantime, Bjork popped over to Britain to record with 808 State and sing live at a few of their memorable all-night parties.

“Just so much brilliant music has been made in the world you could spend all your life listening to it and you wouldn’t outlast it,” enthuses Bjork. But what to top it all is what’s happening now. If you’re into history, how much would you give to stand on a balcony and see the French Revolution for an hour? If you can, you see it when it’s happening, not after the event when it’s on the compilation album. It just radiates, nothing can kill it. 

   “I wanted to see the dance scene before it disappeared which it probably is doing now. Honestly, seeing 808 State play after they’ve made the masses happy at about six o’clock in the morning was so incredibly creative. I loved it. And I imagine what I saw of the scene only represented about  5% of what was going on. Iceland is very small. If you are into something you are bound to meet everyone in the country who is into the same thing as you. It takes about one or two years to get into and that’s it. It doesn’t get bigger. 

LABELS

When the Sugarcubes play live in Iceland, they will know at least 70% of the people there by their first names. 

“At home, we prefer to treat our concerts like an event, with other bands playing who are on our label. Bad Taste, and mauve somebody reading poetry,” says Bjork. “That’s where we fit in. Going abroad is all right it doesn’t bring out the best in us. We’re not really fond of playing at festivals with other bands. Not that we’re social shits. But firstly, too much is expected of us, especially here in Britain, and secondly, we consider that only half of playing live is about the music, maybe not even half. It’s all about the atmosphere. That’s our thing.” 

The Sugarcubes have a mammoth credibility rating not only worldwide, but especially in Iceland where only two independent labels exist. Einer, the one who seems born for the world to love to hate, was at the core of the Icelandic alternative scene he and a partner set up the first independent label in 1982. 

“ Everybody who had long wanted to do something different, but didn’t know what made sure they got themselves involved. 

   “Some people would just go to the concerts, they put on and it would make them really happy. Others played in bands, or worked in the record shop; the only one in town where you could buy the things you wanted. Or people would be poets or artists. It was not a big gang, but it was just all of a sudden, people who had been isolated had some chance to have fun with other like-minded people. That’s really what the Sugarcubes all have in common, at some point in our corners e decided that we were going to do something different. We met Einer’s company, formed our own, and made out a manifesto. It was very important to us.” 

But Bad Taste has been put to sleep for a while until they have the finances and the will to take care of it. The Sugarcubes feel like making great records again, which thankfully, is something that the whole world can be “in on”. Still, Bjork insists that if the band stopped they have about 5,000 things they could in Iceland, which they’d pursue with blind faith, the Cubes’ common bond. 

“And we’ve agreed to only do small tours now not like we did beforem@ explains Magga. “We decided between us that we don’t want to spend more than two weeks away from home every time. We’ll do three or two-week tours, and maybe go home in between.”

“Probably some of the things we included on our manifesto, which haven’t yet happened (a newspaper, a radio station and a small cafe) maybe would have got done it if we hadn’t spent so much time abroad,” says Bjork. “And when we got back to Iceland we met so many people all the time, everywhere.” 

Sighs. 

“We just wanted to stay in our houses with our lovers and eat breakfast.” 

LOVE AND SEX

And now, for their next trick, the Sugarcubes released the third LP Stick Around For Joy, following just behind the successful single ‘Hit’ and just ahead of the single ‘Walkabout’. 

“We spent a lot of time overthinking of the right word for the title ‘Hit’”, says Bjork.  “It’s very aggressive which it had to be because it’s a love song, but it’s an uncomfortable long song. “

   “But we never decide before we write the music of a song whether it’s going to be a nasty song or a nice song,” Magga adds. “I mean, when you’re having a baby you don’t work out whether it’s going to be a mechanic or a bus driver,” 

‘Leash Called Love’ and ‘I’m Hungry’, off the, are natural, healthy responses to a claustrophobic relationship. Bjork’s lyrics spit venom, releasing anger that otherwise goes inward.

Winter’s and Bjork’s vocals are still based on lyrical interaction, written almost in a dialogue format (creating that confusing, well-known surreal effect,) but many seem to be dealing specifically with the games and grief that go with personal relationships. 

On ‘Walkabout’, Einer’s character delights in the reality of love’s natural forces, using all the kinky cliches which fit when you’re being that honest: “the thing that makes me love you is the unforgettable smell of your skin/There’s a cave and there’s a ship/That goes in and out of the harbour.”

The Cubes’ new subject for dialogue is right on cue. Recently worldwide film and television dramas seem to be catching up with music’s longtime reputation for showing the bare bones of love and lust. 

“It’s actually always been a principle of Einer’s and I not to write love songs,” explains Bjork. “A song ‘Cold Sweat’, on the first album, was actually kind of taking the mickey out of love songs.” 

Why?

“Because it’s just so typical;, and there are so many more things going on. At the point Sugarcubes started we were just into things like little scenes that go on between people on an ordinary day.”

It’s a very theatrical/novelistic approach.

“Yes, and I suppose at the time we were reading a lot of books that we do now, and we were sharing them too. It Einer like a book he gives all the others a copy.” 

Does love frighten you?

“Yes, but it’s more pleasant, than unhappy,” says Bjork. “It’s the best. It has to kind of sneak up on you.” 

That’s different to how you are as people. As you say, you have a kind of courage, with love, to a degree, you have to let it take control. 

“Yes, and that’s frightening because you have to lose a certain amount of independence. To be dependent on someone is something I find difficult to deal with. A friend of mine came to visit me in Iceland once and said that I like feminine men and masculine girls.” 

Do you believe in a lifetime man/woman relationship? 

“I don’t think you should take anything for granted,” says Bjork. “With the band too. We might not last the week.” 

“Most of the time I try to be honest. A big part of me is not very pleasant. And then again, you meet people that you love very hard, and because they’ve made an effort to make you feel good, you make an effort to not upset them. In cases like that, you try but sometimes moods are hard to control. I’m an over-the-top person. If I’m happy I’m in the sky.

   “They used to put LSD in sugarcubes and polio vaccinations. It’s used quite often as a sweet medium for taking something medical. In France, in the Alsace region, I’ve had homemade schnapps in a sugarcube.” 

BABIES

“In Iceland, you drink until you drop and you can see the mountains from the High Street. 

   And people don’t worry about the winning or losing thing all the time,” says Magga. “You don’t have a certain job that you do all your life. People are maybe partly in school and partly at work. Or they’re at home with babies some days and working others.” 

“We all have babies, except for one band member,” explains Bjork. “My boy is six, Magga’s little girl is four. My boy’s really got the rebel in him now. He questions everything, power-wise especially.” 

   Children make you think because they ask you the answers to questions that you have yet to work out for yourself. 

“Yes, that’s certainly true,” says Bjork, laughing, “One morning, at home, when m son and I awoke. I left him quite happily standing by the window looking out over te ocean while I went to prepare breakfast, or something. When I came back he nearly in tears. He said: “Mum how many years are there anyway? Do they just keep going on and on?” I mean, when you’ve just woken up. Then came over later on and said: “I know it’s all right Mum, you don’t have to tell me. It’s something about the universe isn’t it?” 

   The problem with a six-strong band on the road with babies is that on top of the inevitable problem beforehand after the three or four gigs each week, they also have to deal with the varying attitudes towards children and practical facilities of each country. Hardly a problem for Ride. *

“If you take a kid to a restaurant in Germany and France, who are just next to each other, the reactions and the way you are treated are completely different,” says bjork. “England is exceptionally bad, you can’t even go on the underground with a stroller her. They don’t help out. It’s ridiculous. How can a society, a country exist without it?” she says, exasperated. 

Are we boring you, readers? 

“Having babies is a natural thing” continues Magga, undeterred. “It shouldn’t stop people from keeping on with their own lives. In our society everybody helps out.People have very big families. They take comfort from it much more than you do here. 

   “I was over here for a while when I was pregnant. And when I was out and about like say, shopping, other women, about my age, were asking me how old I was. When I said I was 21, they would tut and say how they weren’t going to have a baby until they were around 35. That means it’s just like a plan to them. They stop everything else in their life and move into houses with babies.” 

MORE GOOD FEELINGS

The Cubes are the sweetener in your boring lives. Again. They’re smiling their mischievous smiles, playing and the part, and twisting plain old pop music into something vital and interesting. Be there. 

“I get crazes on all kinds of music,” says Bork. “I  listen to it all the time for a while and then it’s over and done with until I discover it again. 

   “The last thing I was the big band music that was around from 1930-35, just listening to the recordings. The Be-pop music came many years later. I had to really dig but I was able to find a recording of Dizzy Gillespie when he was out age and it’s so brilliant. Punk? Forget it. For aggression endanger, all those cliches, listen to these bands. They’ve got one microphone in the middle of a 20 piece band, and then one trumpet right at the back will suddenly start playing a solo or something and it’s so dynamic. To dance to a live band like that with not one instrument plugged into electricity. Just one night in a wild kinky club, I’d do a lot for that.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” says Magga. “I think today I feel like being in Spain learning to dance the flamingo.”  

Pic was found on a brilliant website which features live radio sessions of vintage alternative music in its Past Daily Soundbooth feature:

https://pastdaily.com/2022/09/23/sugarcubes-session-1988-past-daily/