Friday, November 21, 2008

Happy Birthday, Sweetie!

I couldn't find a new photo of Björk that I liked enough to do my usual photoshop treatment in honor of her 43rd birthday, but this short vid on YouTube seems perfect.

It is described as "Björk and crowd singing Happy Birthday in Icelandic to Sylvia at Náttúra - Nature Awareness Concert in Reykjavik, Iceland, June 28 2008."

It was the birthday of a singer in her touring group, but what better way to commemorate her b-day than hearing her sing "Happy Birthday" in Icelandic?

Monday, July 21, 2008

Bjork Zine's Third Anniversary

When Björk Zine celebrated its first anniversary, the blog had a little over 600 hits to its credit. Moving into its fourth year, the site has garnered a little over 11,000 hits. Like most blogs, Björk Zine is a one-person enterprise, so I’m not always able to add new entries. I have more Björk-inspired tattoos to post, for example, and promise to do that soon.

I have a lot of fun creating the “anniversary covers.” I didn’t do a second anniversary entry, so I was inspired to fill the gap and create the missing cover using one of my favorite photos of Björk.

An anniversary, however, calls for something more than a special cover. Since I strive to make Björk Zine a blog that reads like a magazine, I went searching for an interview that was a little offbeat. I normally hate articles written by writers who feel compelled to feature themselves in the story. Typically the writers will moan about the hassle of getting to the subject’s home, or the amount of time they had to wait for the subject to arrive, or the mood the subject is in and how it makes them feel. The article isn’t about them, but they manage to assume center stage as though to say, “I’m meeting this famous person and you’re not and what a pain it was even though it was ultimately worth it.”

What follows is one of those articles. So why do I feature it? Well, beneath the obnoxious descriptions that seem intent upon casting Björk in a less than charming light, moments of revelation shine through, and at a certain point, Björk gets her revenge when she grows weary of the writer’s insipid questions. At the same time, the conversation touches on things I haven’t heard Björk talk about before. Despite the insufferable sections, it all comes together in the end.


“I didn't like being a celebrity. It's a service job. Like washing toilets.”

A child star, quirky as her music, Björk has spent 30 eccentric years making records. She tells Polly Vernon about egg-laying, a fearless love life and binge drinking

Sunday July 8, 2007
The Observer

Björk ambles around the chintzy suite of a west London hotel, smearing moisturizer into her face in an inexpert manner. She paws at her cheeks and her forehead, she rubs her upper eyelids aggressively, she drags at her skin. She's wearing a long, embroidered caftan over metallic-silver leggings, a look she's accessorized with a long necklace, which seems to be made of discarded Barbie-doll limbs. A pair of cracked-silver Vivienne Westwood dolly shoes lie a little to one side; Björk is barefoot. The overall effect is deranged - but cool, and not un-chic.

She's tired, she says; her skin's tired, which is why she's slapping on the cream. She flew into the country from New York a day or so earlier. 'But I'm good. I'm OK,' she says, in her peculiar accent, which is one-part comic cockney ('innit!... What you call it? Speaking for meself...'), one-part drawling American rhetoric ('I got, what you call it? Creative control...'), and one-part Icelandic (she says 'my dotter' instead of 'my daughter', and rolls and rasps her Rs). Her excited inflections and unpredictable conversational segues make her sound like a 12-year-old boy. 'I been talking all day, so I'm a bit fried. I will try to squeeze it out though, but I am a bit... you know... woo-hoo!' she says. I laugh; she looks back at me, earnestly.

I didn't expect Björk to be eccentric in the flesh, although oddness is an integral part of her public persona, of course. Björk's been making records for 30 years; she's been an internationally recognized artist for the last 21. Through all of that, her relentless eccentricity has been her celebrity shtick. Oddness, kookiness and quirkiness have been as much a part of Björk's brand as her off-kilter, jarring, powerful sound. Björk, who wore a swan costume up the red carpet at the Oscars in 2001. Björk, who sewed pearls into her own skin for the video to 2001's 'Pagan Poetry'. Björk, who battered a television reporter at Don Muang airport in Bangkok, when she tried to talk to her son Sindri, then 10. Björk, who was rumoured to have been so unhappy while filming a role in Lars von Trier's Dancer In The Dark that she ate her own cardigan. Björk, who's just set Glastonbury 2007 on fire with her hugely theatrical extravaganza of a show, her outlandish headgear, her silver-sprayed forehead, her harpsichord and her crazy dancing.

Still, I'd assumed that Björk's eccentricities had been exaggerated in press coverage somewhat; or that they were an act. Even if they'd once been entirely genuine - she's now 41 years old, the mother of two children. Her boyfriend is Matthew Barney, leading light in New York's contemporary-art scene; they share a New York house once owned by Noël Coward. How eccentric can anyone with such adult credentials actually be?

Well: very, apparently. In the flesh, Björk is brilliantly odd. Her oddness is exacerbated by the accent, the styling, but also by her constant movement, her fidgety, twisty body, her gratuitous nose twitches. And then there's her logic. For example, she'll say, on the subject of her creative process: 'Music for me is like fact. Like algebra.' And she'll expect you to understand what she means.

But we're not getting on very well. We're having a bit of a row. She's objecting to one of my questions - which I thought was mild enough. I asked her at what point in her career she first felt famous; and she's reacted badly. Really badly.

'What a question!' she says. She laughs, angrily. She looks at me. No one speaks.

Then: 'That's a bit Hello! magazine, isn't it?'

Er, is it?

'Yeah,' she says. She is very frosty indeed.

We started off OK. I asked her if she wanted to talk to me about feminism, because there's some evidence of a feminist awakening in the lyrics of her latest album, Volta; and also because her press officer told me that she would. She laughed and said: 'That didn't come from me! I never had a press officer before, but I like it, actually! And I'm sure he's right. I probably should talk about feminism...'

She talked about fame instead - willingly, at first. She's endured it for a long time. Björk - born Björk Gudmundsdóttir in Reykjavik, Iceland, in 1965 - recorded her first album aged 11. 'There was a radio show where everybody who did something well, did something. One did magic tricks and one did, er, what you call it? Flick flacks? And I sang. Because that is what I did. On the school bus I would sing. All the time. And some guy contacted my mum and wanted to make a lot of money and do a child record, and my mum said: "Yes." I can't even remember being asked.'

The album sold well, and Björk became a star.

Was that fun?

'No! I hated it! I didn't really like it. I think children should pick for themselves. They shouldn't be pushed. I was too young.'

Does she resent her mother for allowing it?

'Little bit. She should have known better.'

Björk, child star, refused to make a second album, and ducked out of the whole business for several years. She formed a punk band called Spit and Snot when she was 14 - 'just at school, with four girls. It was fun. I played drums' - but didn't release any more records until the mid-1980s. It was then that she gained international recognition as vocalist for the Sugarcubes, a post-punky, electro-ish Icelandic outfit, which sat well among the jangly guitars and whimsy of the UK's indie music scene. (I remember watching her prance around in the video for the 1987 hit 'Birthday', an Icelandic extravaganza of ice floes and lava and dark, soaring birds. I was wildly impressed by her unhinged impishness, and her sticky-out hair.)

She married her Sugarcubes bassist, Thor Eldon, and gave birth to their son Sindri in 1986, aged 20. Which seems incredibly young to be a mother. 'Not in Iceland! Most people have 'em when they're about 16. It's rural out there.'

Björk and Eldo split before Sindri was two - and their band split in 1992. Björk launched herself as a solo artist with the critically acclaimed dance album Debut, in 1993, aged 27. At which point, she became truly famous, on a grander scale. How was it that time around?

'Well, it was fun to try it. If you had a paper in front of you, and like, you could pick things, before birth, that you would like to try, before you fall down and die; and that was one of the bubbles: A-list celebrity, try that out for a couple of months ... you'd probably go: yes. Tick it. Just for the experience. And to be honest, I didn't really like it. It's pretty rubbish. It feels like a service job, a bit like washing toilets or something. It feels like you are somebody else's servant. But I can tick that one off, and move to, to ... to Spain, for a few months, and they forgot about me!'

Really? It was that easy to duck out?

'Yep!' she says, with absolute satisfaction. 'For me anyway!'

Then I ask her what, it transpires, is the wrong question about fame, and Björk gets mad. Maybe I should have anticipated it. In 1996, celebrity turned nasty for Björk, when Ricardo Lopez, an obsessed fan, videoed himself making and mailing an acid bomb to the singer, before committing suicide. The police intercepted the device before Björk opened it, but still; it must have been grim, and maybe my focusing on Björk's fame triggered some associations. Or maybe she's just bored.

I move on, ask questions designed to engage her as a musician. But it's too late. For 20 minutes of our precious hour together, Björk is abrupt, cold, and hard:

How does she write her songs?

'I mostly write on my own, walking, outside.'

Does she do this in London (where she still owns a house, just across the road from the hotel where we're sitting)? In New York (where she, Matthew Barney, Sindri, and four-year-old Isadora - her daughter with Barney - are based)? In Iceland (where she still spends half her time)?

'Wherever I am.'

You wake up, you get up, you go out, with writing as an end goal?

'Mmm hmmmm.'

Do you take a notebook? Or a Dictaphone? Do you write while you walk, or on park benches?

'It isn't really like that. You can't plan it.'

Then there's a long, uncomfortable pause.

I ask Björk about fashion. She's got strong associations with the industry; Alexander McQueen made her a frock for one of her videos, she's often championed the more challenging designs of people like Rei Kawakubo and Sophia Kokosolaki.

Does she love fashion?

'Not really. I don't really like it.'

I look pointedly at the Westwood shoes, and Björk relents a little.

'I like the creative angle. Where people express them-self. But I don't like it when it's too much of people being told what to do, and too much like ... fascism, of magazines telling women to starve them-self, and they obey! Or they're like "out of fashion", which is the worst crime you could ever commit! So they get executed for it, publicly! It makes women very unhappy.'

Björk's said in the past that she was surprised no one realized that the Oscar swan outfit was a joke - even though she periodically 'laid' eggs on the red carpet (at which point security guards would tap her on the arm and say: 'Excuse me ma'am. You've dropped something'). Now, she says: 'I think in Hollywood, if you don't wear black Armani, you get executed immediately. But mostly er, I'm surprised it's still a big deal. I'm surprised journalists are still talking about it.'

We don't have much imagination, I explain. Björk laughs. She warms up a little; then I spoil it all and ask: how does she reconcile motherhood, with pop stardom?

'Ha! You asking me again what it's like being famous, right?'

No! I'm asking you what it's like to have a very domesticated facet to your lifestyle, and also one that is traditionally associated with excess, high living, emotional volatility, drugs and groupies.

'Oh. Being a musician is very easy. My house is full of musical instruments. There's a lot of music, always. But... I don't really go to premieres and hang out with Puff Daddy.'

(I refrain from saying that I didn't for one moment think that she did, and that, furthermore, he's called P Diddy.)

It isn't until Björk has some room-service soup that things start to look up. She mellows considerably. 'It's my blood sugar,' she explains. 'It goes a bit ... haywire.'

I ask her some more searching questions; and she responds well. Björk's been with Matthew Barney for six years; before that, she'd had a series of relationships, some of which were high-profile. She dated UK Nineties music institutions Tricky (of Massive Attack) and Goldie, for a start. The two were supposed to have fought over her.

Does she fall in love easily?

'Erm. Hmmm.' She giggles. 'I mean, there's been many different periods in my life ... there's definitely been places where I fell really easily in love. And, erm, all the different colours ... I think I'm the sort of person who - I wouldn't play it safe. Again, if you have the ticky boxes in front of you, and you have all the different emotional feelings, to do with love ... then I think I wanted to taste all of them, at least once. I also wanted to taste rejection, I wanted to taste being heartbroken, being obsessed, I wanted to feel being superior, I wanted to feel being equal, I wanted to, erm, experience, being ecstatic, the joy, the freedom, the recklessness, the conservative side ... the domestic life ...'

And has she experienced all these things?

'All of these colours! Yeah!'

She seems fearless, romantically. Is she scared of anything?

'Yeah! Tons! Tons of stuff, but that's part of the fun, though, isn't it? And it's not like I said: OK, I decide, 17 March, I will be heartbroken ... it's not like that. And I look at my friends, and there are some people who play it safe, and they don't want to take risks.'

I'm one of those, I tell her.

'But that's not bad, either! It is also brave to keep things together. That takes guts too.'

Björk likes me in the end. We talk about shopping: 'I like it! But it really exhaust me. I get highs, to be totally honest, in second-hand shops. My hunting instinct, I expect, really kicks in.' We talk about ageing. There's something very childlike about her, there's the 12-year-old boy in her spoken inflections, and the high-voltage eccentricities. She's also got the posture of someone much younger; and the skin. But still - she is 41.

'I'm pretty comfortable with it when it comes to experience, maturity, er, wisdom; but I'd be lying if I said that it don't piss me off that I don't have the same energy I used to have when I was 20.'

Where does she stand on the ravages of time?

'Right now, I feel like I look exhausted, because I'm tired. I'm not vain, like: I want to look pretty. That's never bothered me. But if I see a photograph of me and I look tired, then I'd be more worried than if I looked ugly.'

She has a nice life; a sociable life, with her kids, her friends, and regular house parties, which she enjoys 'because you can be really picky about the music and only play what you like'. She's about to tour Volta, which she thinks will be fine because she's negotiated a month-on, month-off deal with her label, so that she can spend time with Isadora. She likes a drink.

'I don't like drinking with food, I think Iceland people are a bit old-school like that - we think if you drink with food then you're an alcoholic ... but if you drink lots, on a Friday night ...'

Then you're fine?

'Yes. I think it's called "binge drinking". I don't see the point of drinking unless you end up dancing and letting go. I actually read somewhere that, if you look over a 40-year period, it's better for your body because then you get rid of so much stress. Two glasses of wine, good for your heart? Yeah, whatever. I just wake up next day and I'm a bit like, black and white, not in colour. But lots of drink, bit of dancing, bit of slapstick... is good! Thing is, you can't do that, that often. Twice a month would be good... but I can't wait, I think, fuck it!'

Is Björk happy?

'I'm just like anybody,' she says, 'I have my ups and downs.' She kicks her bare feet out a bit. 'It's not like bliss, 24/7 or anything.' She sniffs. 'Shame about that, innit?' Then she laughs, and boots me out of her hotel room.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

BJORK ZINE Magazine Cover Gallery UPDATED

It's been a while since I've updated any of the photo galleries, but I've added about 17 new images to the Magazine Cover Gallery. It's interesting how magazines like ID and CUT lend numerous covers to Björk, as though they were edited by devoted Björk fans, like us . (I know I wouldn't need much of an excuse to place her on the cover if I edited a music magazine.) It is also a reflection of the respect Björk earns within the industry as a recording pioneer when SOUND & RECORDING Magazine follows the progress of her ever-evolving artistry in the studio.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

The Great Björk Scam of 2003

Some (or a lot) of you may have already heard this story, but it’s brand new to me. It involves an event that seemed almost too good to be real – “An Intimate Evening with Björk” – and in the end, was too good to be real, but not for the reasons one might think. Björk has been known to appear in small venues, but this one was different. This one had a poster produced for it by R.Black, an established illustrator of rock posters. This one was going to happen at a popular gay club in San Diego called the Flame. There was even an opening act on the bill – “the infamous” Debbie Deb. Problem was, Björk didn’t know about it. If this is news to you as it was to me, I’ve gathered various media reports to flesh out the details. And even if it’s not news to you, you’re likely to learn something you didn’t know before.

We start with this report from the San Diego Union-Tribune:

By Gregory Alan Gross

January 24, 2003

And the moral of this story is: Don't mess with Björk fans.

A man suspected of defrauding as many as 400 people of as much as $16,000 [other reports state between $9,000.00 and $14,000.00 – Björk Zine] by selling tickets to a bogus Björk concert at a North Park night spot has been arrested in Hawaii, authorities said yesterday.

But it wasn't police investigators who tracked Alejo "Alex" Conate [aka DJ Liquid Groove] to the island of Oahu.

It was the outraged fans of Björk, an internationally known singer with a fiercely devoted following in the underground dance music scene, who found him and tipped off the cops.

"We're in the process of extraditing him back," said San Diego vice Detective James Borg.

Conate is suspected of setting up a phony Web site with bogus e-mails from Björk to dupe a legitimate San Diego promoter, Bryan Pollard, and the management at The Flame into believing he could bring the iconoclastic Icelandic idol to an intimate club venue in San Diego.

He then sold realistic-looking tickets to ecstatic Björk fans at $40 apiece.

Said Borg: "I'm very anxious to have a chat with this young man."

So are prosecutors in San Luis Obispo, who have two pending warrants of their own with Conate's name on them.

So, too, is Kevin Azero who, along with several of his friends, shelled out $80 for a pair of tickets to a concert that never was.

"He's been caught . . . really? Oh my God, that's really cool!" Azero said, adding. "I hope he still has my money."

Once it was known that the Björk appearance in San Diego was a scam, both police and angry Björk fans immediately got on Conate's trail.

But it was a network of Björk fans – as well as the holders of those worthless tickets – who found him first, Borg said.

"People kind of went into an outrage over this," said Greg Horton, manager of the Off the Record music shop, who also bought a pair of the phony tickets.

They had help from Pollard's Web site,, which posted a photograph of Conate on the Internet and urged anyone who had seen him to contact the site or The Flame.

"They have a communication system that rivals the CIA," Borg said.

Apparently, Conate was over in Hawaii, Borg said, boasting of his dealings as a concert promoter here.

Word got back to Pollard, who called San Diego police.

"We did find out where he was and I worked with the Honolulu Police Department Crime Stoppers," Borg said. "They did a good job."

Conate was arrested Wednesday and waived extradition, Borg said. His return to California will be coordinated through the San Luis Obispo District Attorney's Office.

*, on June 25, 2003, reported this:

Conate will be sentenced for the crime on July 22, but San Diego authorities won’t be able to punish the trouble-maker until he answers other charges in San Luis Obispo. Authorities there have issued a warrant for a probation violation stemming from a previous elder abuse conviction.


Following sentencing, The San Diego Union-Tribune ran this update:

5:40 p.m., July 29, 2003

SAN DIEGO – A man who sold more than $9,000 worth of tickets to a non-existent concert that he claimed would feature Icelandic pop star Björk was sentenced today to five years probation and ordered to make restitution.

Alejo Miguel Conate, 25, pleaded guilty on June 23 to grand theft.

Conate will be transferred to San Luis Obispo, where he faces a probation violation in an unrelated elder abuse case, Deputy District Attorney Tricia Pummill said.

Conate convinced promoter Bryan Pollard that he was a disc jockey and could deliver Björk to the Flame bar on Park Boulevard for a Jan. 15 concert.

Tickets to the "show" were sold, and the defendant skipped town with $9,160, Pummill said.

Conate was arrested in late January in Honolulu, after authorities learned he spent about $1,900 tipping female dancers in an adult club.

Owners of the Flame have already paid back the vast majority of the ticket buyers, Pummill said.

Conate was ordered to pay $5,760 to the club and $1,960 to Pollard. The rest of the money will be held for customers who have not been reimbursed, the prosecutor said.

San Diego police Detective James Borg testified at an earlier hearing that Pollard told him that he first met Conate last November, as the defendant pulled a suitcase down a Hillcrest street.

Conate told Pollard that he worked as a DJ and knew the singer Björk, according to the detective, who said the promoter offered Conate a place to live because he was homeless.

Pollard and a bar manager got e-mails that they thought were from Björk officials and another performer confirming their scheduled appearance in San Diego, Borg said.

Conate disappeared in December with the money from the ticket sales from an unlocked metal box kept under Pollard's bed, the detective said.

Pummill said people interested in buying tickets to concerts should check a performer's Web site to see if a show is actually scheduled.

In early January 2003, the club Flame issued this statement:

"On behalf of myself, Mary Young, manager of The Flame in San Diego, it is with great disappointment to inform those of you who actually bought tickets that the Bjork show has been cancelled. DJ Liquid Groove, (his real name is Alex Conate from Oceanside, CA but also goes by 'Keanu Jimenez') the promoter with this event, has taken off with all of the money made from ticket sales. Yes, DJ Bryan Pollard and The Flame's names are on the flyers and the tickets, but all Bryan Pollard did was supply "Liquid Groove" with a website for promoting and the use of his clubs to sell tickets. All that The Flame did was say 'yes' to a once in a lifetime opportunity to house the most magical and inspirational woman in music (who wouldn't???). DJ Bryan Pollard had been working with "Liquid Groove" for the past couple of months and entrusted in him not only his business but his reputation. "Liquid Groove" proclaimed to have been a producer for Bjork on her Icelandic version of 'Homogenic'. He also listed off a list of other amazing artists he had collaborated with and unfortunately we believed him. He then played for us many of Bjork's songs he had mixed himself making it even more believable, as well as being a 'special guest DJ' at our club last Saturday night. Bryan Pollard, The Flame and its staff, and everyone who purchased a ticket got duped.

"The Flame and Bryan Pollard are deeply sorry for any inconvenience this has caused but please remember that we too are very disappointed.”


According to a news item about the scam on dated 4/14/03, Conate initially claimed that “he was guilty of no such thing in court Wednesday” and “denied charges of grand theft for allegedly selling $14,000 worth of tickets to a January 15 concert that was never booked.” What’s important, however, is that he was guilty, and when faced with the facts, had to plead guilty in court. In the final analysis, Conate was just a grifter, and not a very good one, because he was caught.

An interesting comment upon the denouement of the case was made by Tommy Salami (gotta love that name!), writer for San Diego’s Gay and Lesbian Times. In the issue dated 8/21/03, Salami extended “a great big bastard of a thank you to Judge William Mudd. I had the privilege of watching him convict DJ Liquid Groove (aka Keanu Jimenez, aka Alejo Conate, aka Inmate # 957-261…) of the locally famous ticket scandal involving a certain Icelandic singer with not nearly enough vowels in her name. My reason for loving Judge Mudd? This quote from the bench over the DJ with the dirty hands: “You are guilty as sin. You’ve tried to fool me, you’ve tried to fool the DA’s office and the probation office by saying you’d been duped. You’re not a dupe. You’re a dope.” I think he deserves his own show. In your face, Judge Judy!”

This is quite a story, and as I said, one that I had never heard before. Aside from the bizarre nature of this story, however, what’s with the reporter’s description of Björk as having “a fiercely devoted following in the underground dance music scene”? Underground dance music scene? Underground, in 2003? I guess he never read the piece in Entertainment Weekly that called Björk a “legend in her own time” and a “citizen of the world.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Here's a good Björk question...

Why hasn't there ever been a Björk calendar, for the many fans who would love to be able to track each day of each month of every year with their favorite renaissance woman from Iceland?

Wouldn't you love to have something like this hanging in your office/cubicle/kitchen/what-have-you?

Click on image for larger view:

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Happy Birthday, Björk!

It's been nearly a year since I've updated this blog. Life intervened, as they say, and my energies were focused elsewhere. But what better time and reason to return than to celebrate Björk's birthday? As she turns 42 on November 21st, she is able to look back upon an interesting and active year. It was a year in which she delivered a new album that defied expectations, made a spellbinding appearance at the Coachella Music Festival, and set upon an international tour performing awe-inspiring rearrangements of her most enduring songs.

If I can rant for a moment, however -- I saw Bjork perform at Coachella, and again about a month later at the Shoreline Pavillion in Mountain View, CA. Both shows were blow-away great. But -- what was the deal with the monitors? At both concerts, the camera work for the monitors consisted of lingering shots of a UFO tracking system (or whatever it was), hands playing keyboards, cock-eyed angles of pianos, back-up singers and horn players, with seldom a peak at the woman we'd all come to see. At Coachella, it was maddening to see Björk on stage (a fair distance away) dancing and singing and doing all the things she does, while the monitors were, instead, obsessing over hands manipulating a laptop. Certainly it wasn't the result of some kind of artistic directive that had been discussed and decided upon and signed off on by Björk, a directive that said "show everything and everyone except Björk, with little snippets of Björk spliced in at random moments just to remind people who they'd come to see." Or was it? I thought surely the monitor situation would be different at Shoreline, but no. Same thing. Big hands hovering over glowing laptops, long shots of the back-up singers, an off-kilter angle from beneath a piano bench. With little snippets of Björk, spliced in. Just to remind us.

I still don't get it, but the music was incredible, and the inspired rearrangements of virtually every song she performed made them sound almost new.

In addition to a new album and tour, she provided the voice for the starring character in an Icelandic animated short film, Anna and the Moods, and now there's the promise of an new album coming out sooner than later.

If anyone has a reason to celebrate her birthday, it's Björk. And so do we!

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Bjork Zine Promo Video 2006

I apologize for not updating the site since October 23rd, but I've been busy creating a Bjork Zine promotional video, now playing on

The video was built around the structure of JC Lemay's wonderful remix of "Pagan Poetry." It may not look like it on YouTube, but the changing images are perfectly synchronized to match the changing beat and chords. If anyone is interested in an original copy of this Windows Media file, I will happily send it to anyone who asks for it via (YouSendIt is a great free site that makes it possible to send large files. Just send an email requesting it to


The Gathering