Amazon.com's Essential Recordings, say of Bjork's
"Debut":

"Her first album following the breakup of the Sugarcubes, Debut is Icelandic trickster Björk's statement of purpose: bringing curious experimentalism to the dance floor and putting her startling, expressive voice front and center. Her perspective is a little alien--it's no accident that the first song talks about 'getting close to a human' --but her leveling of genre distinctions has some wonderful results, especially the eroticized easy-listening reggae sway of "Venus As a Boy." Paired with producer Nellee Hooper (of Soul II Soul), she comes up with a series of invitingly artificial settings for her pipes, built from late-night beats and peculiar timbres, and sings like she's overwhelmed with joy from all her senses."
AllMusic.com gives it 5 (out of 5) stars, and says:
"Björk takes her voice and creativity to new heights on Debut, her first work after the group's breakup. With producer Nellee Hooper's help, she moves in an elegantly playful, dance-inspired direction, crafting highly individual, emotional electronic pop songs like the shivery, idealistic "One Day" and the bittersweet "Violently Happy." Despite the album's swift stylistic shifts, each of Debut's tracks are distinctively Björk. "Human Behaviour"'s dramatic percussion provides a perfect showcase for her wide-ranging voice; "Aeroplane" casts her as a yearning lover against a lush, exotica-inspired backdrop; and the spare, poignant "Anchor Song" uses just her voice and a brass section to capture the loneliness of the sea. Though Debut is just as arty as anything she recorded with the Sugarcubes, the album's club-oriented tracks provide an exciting contrast to the rest of the album's delicate atmosphere. Björk's playful energy ignites dance-pop-like "Big Time Sensuality," and turns the genre on its head with "There's More to Life Than This." Recorded live at the Milk Bar Toilets, it captures the dancefloor's sweaty, claustrophobic groove, but her impish voice gives it an almost alien feel. But the album's romantic moments may be its most striking; "Venus As a Boy" fairly swoons with twinkly vibes and lush strings, and Björk's vocals and lyrics — "His wicked sense of humor/suggests exciting sex" — are sweet and just the slightest bit naughty. With harpist Corki Hale, she completely reinvents "Like Someone in Love," making it one of her own ballads. Possibly her prettiest work, Björk's horizons expanded on her other releases, but the album still sounds fresh, which is even more impressive considering electronic music's whiplash-speed innovations. Debut not only announced Björk's remarkable talent, it suggested she had even more to offer."
Amazon.com's Essential Recordings, say of Bjork's
"Post":

"This Icelandic marvel is such an original that, even after four Sugarcubes albums and a brilliant solo Debut, she remains an acquired taste. "Army of Me" is a turbulent, darkling tune that's almost conventional next to the gloriously eclectic material that follows. Working with Tricky, Soul II Soul/U2 producer Nellee Hooper, and string arranger/one-hit wonder Deodato, Björk looses her helium-fueled voice and surreal wordplay on Gershwinesque pop (the adorable "It's Oh So Quiet"), ambient dub ("Possibly Maybe") and all kinds of fresh dance/pop hybrids ("Enjoy," "Hyper-Ballad," "I Miss You"). Too raw and adventurous for mass success, perhaps, but a more unique, engaging, oddly accessible artist just doesn't exist."
AllMusic.com gives it 4.5 (out of 5) stars, and says:
"After Debut's success, the pressure was on Björk to surpass that album's creative, tantalizing electronic pop. She more than delivered with 1995's Post; from the menacing, industrial-tinged opener "Army of Me," it's clear that this album is not simply Debut redux. The songs — especially the epic, modern fairy tale "Isobel" — production, and arrangements all aim for, and accomplish, more. Post also features Debut producer Nellee Hooper, 808 State's Graham Massey, Howie B., and Tricky, who help Björk incorporate a spectrum of electronic and orchestral styles into songs like "Hyperballad," which sounds like a love song penned by Aphex Twin. Meanwhile, the bristling beats on the volatile, sensual "Enjoy" and the fragile, weightless ballad "Possibly Maybe" nod to trip-hop without being overwhelmed by it. As on Debut, Björk finds new ways of expressing timeworn emotions like love, lust, and yearning in abstractly precise lyrics like "Since you went away/I'm wearing lipstick again/I suck my tongue in remembrance of you," from "Possibly Maybe." But Post's emotional peaks and valleys are more extreme than Debut's. "I Miss You"'s exuberance is so animated, it makes perfect sense that Ren & Stimpy's John Kricfalusi directed the song's video. Likewise, "It's Oh So Quiet" — which eventually led to Björk's award-winning turn as Selma in Dancer in the Dark — is so cartoonishly vibrant, it could have been arranged by Warner Bros. musical director Carl Stalling. Yet Björk sounds equally comfortable with an understated string section on "You've Been Flirting Again." "Headphones" ends the album on an experimental, hypnotic note, layering Björk's vocals over and over till they circle each other atop a bubbling, minimal beat. The work of a constantly changing artist, Post proves that as Björk moves toward more ambitious, complex music, she always surpasses herself."
Amazon.com's Editorial Reviews, say of Bjork's
"Homogenic":

"Headline-grabbing personal upheavals turn into introspective surges on Homogenic, the third album by Icelandic singer Björk. Björk gets lost in a wash of strings and minimalist techno patterns on her latest outing. The eccentricity and stylistic schizophrenia of Debut and Post have been cast away in favor of darker, more sublime edginess. Filled with songs about paranoia, heartbreak, and lost faith, Homogenic not only showcases more mature themes, but a more uniform mood. Notch that up to Björk's decision to produce the album herself. Aside from a few nominal collaborations with Mark Bell of obscure techno outfit LFO and the Icelandic String Octet, this is the purest representation of the artist's vision. Little did we know that such a quirky personality would have such a bleak world view. Homogenic is almost too heavy to take in sitting, but there are moments of inspiration that burn through the dark clouds, particularly on the contemplative "Joga" and the uplifting "Bachelorette."
AllMusic.com gives it 5 (out of 5) stars, and says:
"By the late '90s, Björk's playful, unique world view and singular voice became as confining as they were defining. With its surprising starkness and darkness, 1997's Homogenic shatters her "Icelandic pixie" image. Possibly inspired by her failed relationship with drum'n'bass kingpin Goldie, Björk sheds her more precious aspects, displaying more emotional depth than even her best previous work indicated. Her collaborators — LFO's Mark Bell, Mark "Spike" Stent, and Post contributor Howie B — help make this album not only her emotionally bravest work, but her most sonically adventurous as well. A seamless fusion of chilly strings (courtesy of the Icelandic String Octet), stuttering, abstract beats, and unique touches like accordion and glass harmonica, Homogenic alternates between dark, uncompromising songs such as the icy opener "Hunter" and more soothing fare like the gently percolating "All Neon Like." The noisy, four-on-the-floor catharsis of "Pluto" and the raw vocals and abstract beats of "5 Years" and "Immature" reveal surprising amounts of anger, pain, and strength in the face of heartache. "I dare you to take me on," Björk challenges her lover in "5 Years," and wonders on "Immature," "How could I be so immature/To think he would replace/The missing elements in me?" "Bachelorette," a sweeping, brooding cousin to Post's "Isobel," is possibly Homogenic's saddest, most beautiful moment, giving filmic grandeur to a stormy relationship. Björk lets a little hope shine through on "Jòga," a moving song dedicated to her homeland and her best friend, and the reassuring finale, "All Is Full of Love." "Alarm Call"'s uplifting dance-pop seems out of place with the rest of the album, but as its title implies, Homogenic is her most holistic work. While it might not represent every side of Björk's music, Homogenic displays some of her most impressive heights."
Björk won the Best Actress at the Cannes Film Festival, 2000, for her performance in
"Dancer In the Dark"
Amazon.com's Editorial Reviews, say of Bjork:
"In her first and most probably last screen performance (she has foresworn acting after her bruising on-set rows with von Trier), brittle Icelandic chanteuse Björk plays Selma, a Czech ((plot))... Superb song-and-dance numbers (Björk also wrote the score)."
The Chicago Sun Times' Roger Ebert (who gives the film 3 and a half stars, out of 4), says:
"The film stars Björk, the Icelandic pop star, as Selma, a Czech who ((plot))... "Dancer in the Dark" is not like any other movie at the multiplex this week, or this year. But it smashes down the walls of habit that surround so many movies. It returns to the wellsprings. It is a bold, reckless gesture. And since Bjork has announced that she will never make another movie, it is a good thing she sings."
Leonard Maltin, says:
"Björk is impressive."
Stephanie Zacharek, of Salon.com, says:
"Björk, who also scored the movie, is one of the most captivating and complex figures in pop music: She's part pixie princess, part torch singer; part deconstructivist modernist, part romantic landscapist. Her lovely wayward warble, especially her shivery reading of "My Favorite Things," is at least a welcome relief -- a familiar and pleasing voice calling out from a landscape far more rocky and parched than Iceland. She shows both a sweetness and a kind of openness that suit the character perfectly, and she knows how to deliver a line -- the odd pacing of the dialogue has nothing to do with her. Björk has claimed in a recent Esquire interview that her experience with von Trier, which she characterized as one of "profound cruelty," has soured her on acting forever, and that's a shame: She's gently appealing, and even in her toughest, most over-the-top scenes, she has a sense of restraint that allows her to maintain her dignity amid the meshugas. Her scenes with her young son, Gene (Vladan Kostic), in particular have an affable and touching quality -- she adores him and mothers him, but she's so girlish herself that they're almost like young cubs together."
Amazon.com's Best of 2000 review, say of Bjork's
"Selmasongs":

"Inspired by the film Dancer in the Dark's Broadwayesque emotional sweep, Björk stretches herself with orchestral mood swings and a darker, more experimental palette. The result is the most difficult record she's made since her Sugarcubes days, but a few listens reveal the thrilling heart of a truly multifaceted and immensely brave composer. The seven tracks sound like something straight out of a Gene Kelly movie but with one major addendum: Björk's wildly imaginative, postmodern songwriting. The movie's theme of fantasy coexisting with urban industrial bleakness is represented in two recurring elements: mechanical friction (expressed rhythmically in the sounds of train tracks, car engines, chains, and even chalk) and dreamy escapism (manifested in enormous orchestral swells of strings, harp, and other fanciful instrumentation). "Cvalda" is typical of the EP's duality. Industrial noise bleeds into Björk's scatting "Clatter! Crash! Clack! Rattle!" then dives head first into a wonderful tap-dancing-on-a tin-roof, big-band cacophony. The EP's showstopper, the rousing "In the Musicals 1 & 2," sounds like it was conducted with a magic wand. Beginning with Aphex Twin-inspired beats bouncing like a ball bearing dribbled hard on pavement, the intricate rhythmic choreography tromps, flits, and changes direction with seamless angularity. These aren't just songs to dance to, these are songs that dance."
AllMusic.com, says:
"Selmasongs: Music From the Motion Picture Soundtrack Dancer in the Dark is, and is not, a Björk album. While it's filled with rampant creativity, startling emotional leaps, and breathtaking vocals and arrangements, it isn't as playful as her other albums, even 1997's relatively dark Homogenic. Instead, it presents Björk as Selma, her character from Lars VonTrier's Dancer in the Dark: a Czech factory worker who is going blind but finds hope and refuge in the musicals she watches at the cinema. (VonTrier wanted to work with Björk after seeing Spike Jonze's musical-inspired video for "It's Oh So Quiet.") She acts through the music she composed, performed, and produced with conductor/arranger Vincent Mendoza and her longtime collaborators Mark "Spike" Stent and Mark Bell. Selma's unsinkable optimism and tragic end are telegraphed through songs like the irrepressible, cartoonish "Cvalda" to the sad, starry lullaby "Scatterheart." Selmasongs' best tracks are poignant, inventive expressions of Björk's talent and Selma's daydreams and suffering. "In the Musicals" shows how easy it is for Selma to slip into one of her Technicolor reveries: "There is always someone to catch me," Björk sighs as clouds of strings, harps, and xylophones rise up to meet her. "New World" reprises the simultaneously hopeful and ominous melody of "Overture," adding striking vocals and shuffling, industrial beats that reflect Selma's life in the factory as well as Björk's distinctive style. Selmasongs also succeeds as a soundtrack, sketching in details of Selma's story. "I've Seen It All," a duet with Thom Yorke, captures her stunted romance with a co-worker, while the tense "107 Steps" takes the listener to her journey's end. Intimate and theatrical, innovative and tied to tradition, Selmasongs paints a portrait of a woman losing her sight, but it maintains Björk's unique vision."
Amazon.com's Best of 2001 Review, say of Bjork's
"Vespertine":

"Ever since Björk's vital, effusive 1993 debut, her music has been increasingly intimate, gently private, and concerned with seclusion. It's typical then that Vespertine's first single is called "Hidden Place." The studious solitude is rewarding, though. Vespertine is a lush, gorgeous swell of midpace electronica, symphonic strings, and Björk's uniquely alien, spectral vocals. There are fantastical wonders here. "Cocoon" (another eulogy to withdrawal from the world) is delicate as a breath, Björk sounding too fragile to be flesh as she lauds "a beauty this immense." "Pagan Poetry" and "Aurora," likewise, are adrift in an enchanted reverie. When she chooses, she crafts killer tunes; "It's Not up to You" is as lovely as anything on Post. Yet, frequently, on such tracks as the yearning, glancing "Undo," Björk seems to be simply thinking aloud, reveling in this wildly rich and visceral music. She's reclaimed cutting-edge electronica, so often the province of geeks and technicians, for the poets and the passionate. Vespertine is a landmark, a revelation, and a truly fabulous achievement."
AllMusic.com gives it 4.5 (out of 5) stars, and says:
"After cathartic statements like Homogenic, the role of Selma in Dancer in the Dark, and the film's somber companion piece, Selmasongs, it's not surprising that Björk's first album in four years is less emotionally wrenching. But Vespertine isn't so much a departure from her previous work as a culmination of the musical distance she's traveled; within songs like the subtly sensual "Hidden Place" and "Undo" are traces of Debut and Post's gentle loveliness, as well as Homogenic and Selmasongs' reflective, searching moments. Described by Björk as "about being on your own in your house with your laptop and whispering for a year and just writing a very peaceful song that tiptoes," Vespertine's vocals seldom rise above a whisper, the rhythms mimic heartbeats and breathing, and a pristine, music-box delicacy unites the album into a deceptively fragile, hypnotic whole. Even relatively immediate, accessible songs, such as "It's Not up to You," "Pagan Poetry," and "Unison" share a spacious serenity with the album's quietest moments. Indeed, the most intimate songs are among the most varied, from the seductively alien "Cocoon" to the dark, obsessive "An Echo, A Stain" to the fairy tale-like instrumental "Frosti." The beauty of Vespertine's subtlety may be lost on Björk fans demanding another leap like the one she made between Post and Homogenic, but like the rest of the album, its innovations are intimate and intricate. Collaborators like Matmos — who, along with their own A Chance to Cut Is a Chance to Cure, appear on two of 2001's best works — contribute appropriately restrained beats crafted from shuffled cards, cracking ice, and the snap-crackle-pop of Rice Krispies; harpist Zeena Parkins' melodic and rhythmic playing adds to the postmodernly angelic air. An album singing the praises of peace and quiet, Vespertine isn't merely lovely; it proves that in Björk's hands, intimacy can be just as compelling as louder emotions."