It has been a rough 15 years for Australian Björk fans. Like a cult whose leader swiftly abandoned us with no explanation, we’ve oscillated between naive hope and complete despair, waiting for her return. Why hadn’t the Icelandic singer-songwriter – the most singular musician in a generation – played here for so long? Was she refusing (or, worse, had she forgotten?) to perform nearly half of her discography here? Would she ever come back? Did … did we do something wrong?
If you’re a geriatric millennial Björk fan like me, her absence has felt almost personal. We were too young for 1994’s Big Day Out. We missed her sold-out-in-minutes show on the Opera House steps after 2007’s Volta. Those who caught her DJ set at Sydney’s Carriageworks for 2016’s Vivid left us confused and bereft. None of the music was Björk’s; no one could see her behind a strategically placed pot plant. (“Do we even know that was her?” punters asked.) She hasn’t played live in Australia since 2008.
