If she started her solo career anywhere besides that brief window of the ’90s where you could be both a pop auteur and a fearless experimenter, Björk would be a cult hero at most — still respected, just less famous. Instead we wound up with this miracle of a record that sounds like a multi-platinum mega-blockbuster that 75% of the music world is still trying to wrap its head around. She finds herself (herselves?) in cyber-industrial sludge, big-band orchestration, Eno-topping melodic grace, and the least-imitable voice of her still-forming era.