was it that I was with my girls? was it the venue? the vibe 🌈? the crowd? the music? a combination of all and more?
Last Friday’s event left me feeling floaty and feminine and right. Loved and in love with the city and my girlfriends.
Sometimes, nights like these – music events, raves, festivals, etc – can feel like somewhat forced experiences, tests of my endurance and lower back. I’ll have moments of fun and joy, for sure. But between these fleeting moments, there can be a lot of… ugh. If not for FOMO or the guilt of youth wastage, I’d happily stay warm and un-dolled every weekend.
Friday was an exception…
Was it weird? Duh.
Could I see Bjork behind the jungle-cloaked DJ decks? Glimpses.
Did people on the internet have things to say about the above? Duh.
Am I a super fan? Do I know why Bjork is a queer icon? Am I DJ music aficionado? No to all… Before last night.
And just no to that last one actually.
I was about 10 when my Dad introduced me to Bjork, enthusiastically showing me some clips on YouTube. I guess this is why I felt such an eagerness to attend and a vague fondness toward her despite knowing almost nothing beyond that memory. It felt nostalgic and it made me feel connected to my Dad and smol me. I also felt weirdly pleased that it was he who imprinted Bjork’s icon status into me, considering all that – and who – she represents. I messaged him post-event as we walked from the venue, feeling floaty and giddy, natural and otherwise. We always want Dad’s approval, lol.
The feminine energy pulsating through the crowd and the entire experience was moving, absurd and a little transcendent. The venue helped. Raphael Helpland explained its effect best in this Fader piece aptly titled, “Björk still has her finger on the pulse’.
“The industrial atmosphere of its surrounding neighborhood and its inhabitation of a local skatepark, combined with”… “Instagrammable light shows and overpriced drinks, give it an unshakable ambience of late-capitalist doom”.
We were outdoors, free and in the open air and, simultaneously, like little rodents scurrying around in the underbelly of the city above. In a ‘spent $150 on a ticket’ kind of way.
As a TikTok by one attendee articulated, “I love New York you can do things like pay $150 to watch Bjork dress up as a chicken and dj from inside a bush for two hours rotating between construction sight noises and tribal music”.
Everyone in attendance, even those like me with little prior Bjork knowledge – expected nothing less. And annoyances expressed on the internet are, like the TikTok, mostly unserious and reflected the crowd feeling I got on the night. That we got it. Because Bjork gets it. It was clear to see, even through the jungle, or maybe partly because of it, that “her fascination with what makes people move grew not only from researching human behavior, but from being a full participant in the joys and agonies of terrestrial life.”
The glimpses we did get of her (or her headpiece) felt all the more exciting and special. There were moments in Bjork’s sets when we stood bewildered but still enraptured, supported and assured by her lawless feminine power and sound.
Her femininity is potent yet beyond the traditional bounds or typifications of what is feminine. She’s undefinable; she doesn’t need to be seen, and nor does her femininity. It is open to everyone because it is nameless, shapeless, and extraterrestrial.
“Her natural disregard for binary concepts of gender manifests itself in all aspects of her work, be it her lyrical genius, her sartorial selections or her visionary celluloid ingenuity. An artist who has always done everything on her own terms, her queerness is as instinctive as it is honest.” – Peter Minkoff (The Queerness)
The night felt good and right in a way I hadn’t experienced before. I’ve decided it was the girly pop weirdness and magic made for all. And it can’t go without mentioning that night’s other acts bolstered, complimented, and empowered all of it.
The girls called the night ethereal, which made Henry laugh, but they were bang on. I’m glad he didn’t go; it wouldn’t have been right.
yours truly and ggracelessly,
grace 🙂
ggraceless.com 
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