Welcome to a new feature here on Pop Culture Will Eat Itself, Rewind Reviews. Periodically we’ll take a look back at an album from the past, and take a look at what made it a classic, a dud, or something in between.

I was 17 years old in 1993. Musically I was just coming of age. I had just left behind the atrocities of Hammer’s 2 Legit 2 Quit and Another Bad Creation’s Coolin’ at the Playground Ya Know!, and had just gone through a Beatles and Zeppelin intervention. I was listening to a lot of grunge, diving heavily into Nirvana, Soundgarden, and especially Pearl Jam. Through high school band I was listening to and playing a lot of classical and jazz. With that mix of music stewing around in my head it’s amazing that I was able to understand and appreciate something that didn’t fit into any category I’d heard before: Björk’s Debut.

From the opening notes of “Human Behaviour” I realized that the Icelandic pixie’s breakthrough album was completely outside any frame of reference I had. I was studying music, playing it at every opportunity, reading about it constantly, and listening to it all the time. So I thought I understood things like rhythm, phrasing, and instrumentation. But what I heard in just the first song wiped away any pride I had made me realize that I knew nothing at all about where this music was coming from. The syncopated percussion line, fuzzed-out bass sounds, and Björk’s distinct vocals were like an unexpected slap in the face from a beautiful woman: jarring, but oddly exciting.

“Human Behaviour” was a revelation to me. I was exhilarated, yet humbled. How could I know so much about music, but have no frame of reference for this? Obviously I didn’t know as much about music as I thought I did, a revelation that continues to this day. But “Human Behaviour” isn’t the only track that shook my musical foundations.

“Big Time Sensuality” is dance music. But not a kind of dance music I’d ever heard before. There’s not a lot of bass. In fact it’s mostly snare and hi hat. But it moves. And it makes you move. Björk’s semi-suggestive lyrics, her growls, and her off-kilter inflection combine into an intoxicating cocktail, especially for a teenager. It’s safe to say I had a bit of a crush on Björk after hearing this song.

“Big Time Sensuality” was dance music as I’d never heard it before, but “Venus as a Boy” reinvented something I was even more familiar with: the ballad. The arrangement is so unique that at the time I couldn’t even identify all the instruments. Hell, who am I kidding, I can’t identify some of them now. Once again, Björk’s delivery of the vocal was the truly special part. She lays down phrases in ways I had never imaged, ways nobody’s imagined since. They’re so distinctive one can’t imagine anyone else even trying them. Yet they work so well for her. It’s truly amazing.

Debut may have been released 16 years ago, but it’s so unlike anything that came our around it that it has a timeless feeling to it. It’s every bit as enjoyable to listen to today as it was then. And even though my musical knowledgebase has grown and my tastes have gotten more sophisticated, I still don’t know quite where to put this album. And that’s a great compliment.

Hope you enjoyed the first Rewind Review. Stay tuned for more. By the way, this post is the 1,000th in the history of Pop Culture Will Eat Itself. Thanks to everyone who’s contributed, shared links with their friends, left comments, or even just read. You keep reading, I’ll keep writing. And now back to our regularly scheduled program.