In existentialist, Sunday teatime host mode.
Recording vocals for 2006's harrowing The Drift.
Scott - ****1/2
Scott 2 - ****1/2
Scott 3 - *****
Scott 4 - *****
'Til The Band Comes In - ****1/2
Moviegoer - **1/2
(Shutout EP - ****1/2)
Climate Of Hunter - ****
Boy Child - *****
Tilt - ****1/2
The Drift - ****1/2
30 Century Man Documentary - ****
Before the now-renowned run of late 60's solo albums, there was the alma mater pop trio The Walker Brothers. Being a cheap bastard, i only own a run-of-the-mill hits-plus-covers compilation purchased on a whim some time after i'd collected the solo work. I'm sure most readers will know and admire (if not necessarily love) the Spector-influenced orchestral pop singles... well OK, i can't argue against 'The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Any More' or 'Make It Easy On Yourself'. There's also a handful of fascinating 'trial runs' for the ideas nurtured by Scott following the split, including the enticing 'Orpheus' and truly evocative 'Mrs. Murphy'. On the whole, though, the real work of change kicked in when Noel Engel (to use his real name) cut loose and got all existential on us. Sure, the jaw-dropping voice was in place, but things were about to get a lot stranger.
Walker Brothers with the Spector-ish smash 'The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Any More'.
'Scott' came in 1968, packing one hell of a punch and racing up the charts. This seems amazing given how out-of-place all the talk of death, sailors and 'stomach rooms' must have seemed. 'Montague Terrace (In Blue)', 'Such A Small Love' and 'Always Coming Back To You' are the only self-written tracks here, the former being the most astonishingly elegant but all three demonstrating a clear deftness of touch and ability to express so much through his lyrics. The Jacques Brel covers are immaculate also, although a lot of credit must go to Mort Shuman's incredible translations, not allowing the galloping 'Mathilde', the strident 'My Death' and the chaotic 'Amsterdam' to lose one ounce of meaning and power. Among such masterpieces, the more standard covers can't really stand out, but they never sound anything less than luxurious in such capable hands.
'Montague Terrace (In Blue)'. The first great Scott song?
Covering (in the best possible sense of the word) Jacques Brel's 'Mathilde' on a Dusty Springfield variety show.
The second in this magical run of LPs follows a similar structure but a few more Walker originals are unleashed, someone perhaps realising that, my god, these might just be better than all those classics he's been covering. 'Plastic Palace People' is one of the most breathtaking moments in the Walker canon, the string arrangement providing the billowing winds which carry Scott's frightened young child and his balloon above the town and up to the life-affirming chorus (although such an arbitrary term seems ill-fitting for this all-too-fleeting musical moment). 'The Amorous Humphrey Plugg' is one of the most convincing character studies you'll ever hear, whilst the two Brel interpretations (the storming yet wistful 'Jackie' and murky underworld of 'Next') more than hold their own next to such exalted works. The only reason this isn't a five-star classic is the presence of the odd so-so cover version. It's still absolutely essential though.
The indescribably beautiful 'Plastic Palace People' from Scott 2.
Then things take yet another step up with 'Scott 3', an album so profoundly romantic yet hopelessly lost in thought that it seems to be running on loop somewhere in my subconscious. I find it hard to imagine people hearing the likes of 'Rosemary', 'Copenhagen', ''It's Raining Today', 'Butterfly', 'Big Louise'... Christ, the whole damn thing, without their minds switching into a different gear, reaching some sort of higher plateau of emotional resonance. I know these people exist, and i shouldn't judge them for it, but god, they're missing out aren't they?! This music moves me in ways i really shouldn't say, let's leave it at that. Amusingly, there are three Brel covers attached at the end. I'm sure they're great, but i will always look upon them as bonus tracks attached as an afterthought to some vivid flight of fancy. For me, the album, and a small part of me, dies and floats away with the fading traces of haunted piano which close 'Two Weeks Since You've Gone'.
Cover art for the eternally haunting Scott 3 album.
The swirling carousel of 'Copenhagen'.
Somehow, less than a year later, 'Scott 4' appeared, and although it inexplicably flopped on a grand scale at the time, it's generally seen today as his finest hour. Although my heart will always belong to its predecessor, i'm fully able to appreciate the astonishing power that this entirely self-written album also carries. Although it still packs a mighty blow for the romantics among us, the feel and lyrics are more abstract, even otherworldly on the likes of 'Boy Child'. The mournful eloquence of 'On Your On Again', 'The World's Strongest Man' and 'Hero Of The War' is just as overwhelming as anything on 'Scott 3', whilst the likes of 'The Seventh Seal' and 'The Old Man's Back Again' find Walker taking in new and equally vital inspiration. As ever, the arrangements are beyond reproach. To be honest, it's hard for me to imagine a world in which these two albums didn't exist.
Sleeve for Scott 4.
The gentle, spectral wonder of 'On Your Own Again' from Scott 4.
Soooooooo... yeah, after that emotionally exhausting yet immeasurably rewarding run of albums, we get 1970's 'Til The Band Comes In'. Although the so-so closing covers make it impossible to grant this a full five stars, the sheer breadth of vision continued on the strongest material here makes it yet another essential offering for those who 'get' Scott. The tone noticeably lightens, possibly due to record company hand-wringing over the disastrous commercial performance of 'Scott 4'. For the first time in a while, there's orchestral pop which could have plausibly been a chart hit (the dramatic title track, the gloriously-arranged 'Thanks For Chicago Mr. James'). There's also a real oddity in the form of the humorous interlude 'Jean The Machine', as well as some trademark galloping rhythms on 'Little Things' and some borderline-country strummin' on 'Cowbells Shakin''. A jazz feel makes the hopelessly depressed 'Joe' totally absorbing, but gets put to best use on the bittersweet haunted house that is 'Time Operator', a song that would be almost hilarious if it wasn't so profoundly sad. To conclude the 'real' album, there's 'War Is Over (Epilogue)', the total classic on the album which feels like an aftershock of the emotions you felt so powerfully during 'Scott 3'.
'Thanks For Chicago Mr. James' from 'Til The Band Comes In.
Perhaps unavoidably, the story goes a bit haywire at this juncture - Scott basically goes off the rails a bit and loses interest in the quality of the music he's releasing. I have only heard one album from this period, 'The Moviegoer'. It's not actually dreadful, there are a few very attractive covers in there, but there's way too much twiddling of thumbs going on creatively. It's almost painful to know what the guy's capable of and hear him being so... average!
'Do I Love You?' from the much-maligned (not least by Scott himself) Any Day Now album. Not that bad really!
A Walker Brothers reunion came and went during the mid-1970's, but an unexpected twist at the end of that tale led to the rejuvenation of Scott the artist. The band went into 1978's 'Nite Flights' album knowing that it was their last and effectively did whatever they wanted. In the case of the other two 'brothers', this involved trying (and failing) to copy the truly groundbreaking experiments which Scott instigated on the four tracks which are probably best considered as a separate EP (released as such in Japan as 'The Shutdown EP'). These songs don't sound much like old Scott at all, but match his earlier solo work in terms of their unsettling fearlessness. 'Nite Flights' seems to draw upon the propulsive rhythms coming out of Germany at the time, which simultaneously mix with bizarre, almost frightening yet indescribably beautiful chord changes and desolately angular harmonies far removed from 'Love Her' and 'Everything Under The Sun'. 'The Shutout' and 'Fat Mama Kick' develop these advances further, but 'The Electrician' finds Walker unveiling a disturbing combination of the romantic heart swells he used so powerfully in his solo prime and a terrifying story of torture and abuse. An oasis of beautiful harmonies and heavenly strings and harps carries the piece's mid-section but this is imprisoned on either side by two walls of ominous, ghoulish atmospherics. To summarise, the New Scott Walker starts here.
Sleeve for the artistic rebirth that is Nite Flights.
The tumultuous, towering 'Nite Flights', later covered by David Bowie.
After the likes of Julian Cope and Marc Almond began to namecheck and salute the "godlike genius" of Walker in the post-punk early 1980's, he was given an opportunity to try his hand again at a solo album. It's hard to tell if anyone at Virgin honestly expected a collection of pop confections, but they emphatically didn't get it. 1984's 'Climate Of Hunter' was quite ridiculously insular. Yes, it was influenced (both positively and negatively) by music of the time, but anyone who sat down and listened to the album would have had no illusions that Scott could ever fit in with the contemporary mood and fashion. I'm pretty much certain that i'll never quite get my head around the lyrics, trading not just in disturbing imagery but also disembodied fragments of language. The music is similarly baffling. Taken on the strength of three tracks, this album would be a clear five star classic. Opener 'Rawhide' sends shivers throughout the body as it plugs straight into those inner recesses which had been longing for some more Scott for years, the period production actually helping to propel the building arrangement towards its lofty peak then float away just like 'Plastic Palace People' all that time ago. 'Dealer' follows and is nearly as remarkable, almost dub-like in its clattering atmosphere and crawling rhythms yet climbing up icy walls of wonderful, clashing noise to further unexplored heights. The other absolute stunner is 'Sleepwalker's Woman', a clear link back to the late 60's but undisputably worthy in its own right, capturing a sense of motionless despair with a wall of hovering strings and (again) beautiful chord changes. So far, so classic, but things get very confused from here on. There are two more strong, albeit less involving, pieces in the form of the dense atonality of 'Track Six' and the surprisingly strong Mark Knopfler (of all people) guitar piece 'Blanket Roll Blues'. Then there are three other untitled tracks which resolutely fail, despite some good ideas, to overcome the cloying 80's production, the guitar wank/Billy Ocean collaboration of 'Track Three' being the worst offender. So, overall, you MUST hear the three classics, but the rest... meh, i could really give or take. One of the weirdest albums i own.
The occassionally brilliant Climate Of Hunter album from 1984.
Up there in the realms of weirdest TV moments. Scott interviewed with inimitable gracelessness on The Tube. Followed by video for the 80's clunker 'Track Three'.
Before the next stage in Scott's journey into the great unknown came the small matter of a proper compilation of his self-written solo material. Although i doubt the man himself had much to do with it, 'Boy Child' does exactly what it should, providing an excellent introduction to the more accessible end of his now-bulging back catalogue - it was in fact my first step into the mind of one of music's great originals. Alongside a selection of tracks from all the essential early solo LPs, there's a superb rarity in the form of 'The Plague' , B-side to 'Jackie' (i think) and a unique, almost rocking moment in the man's history. Any newbies out there, start here, then you'll hopefully want the rest.
With that out of the way, we can all safely return to abnormal programming with 1995's 'Tilt', over 11 years on from 'Climate Of Hunter' and just as shockingly strange as that album was. It's worth noting that the rich baritone we know and love hasn't aged as one might have expected. Although just as powerful in its own way, Scott's new voice operates much more on dramatic changes in dynamics and tone than on the usual sense of power and effortless control. The 80's production is pretty much gone, these tracks trading on a much sparser feel and aesthetic. I'm sure some fans walked away at this point, and i can sympathise, given the fact that, on first listen, Walker seems to be doing everything within his power to incite such a reaction. But, as ever, perseverance reaps its own rewards, and this is just as thrilling an album, if not more so, as 'Climate Of Hunter' was when it got its act together. Like the rest of the LP, the lyrics to opener 'Farmer In The City' will take a lifetime of pondering to get into (it's probably best if i don't try to interpret any of them here), but the graceful, plunging string arrangement makes that effort more than worthwhile. 'The Cockfighter' sounds suspiciously like an avant-garde noise composition on first exposure, but get past that initial wall of nerve-shredding sound and you'll reach a quite remarkable composition, full of dynmaic shifts and chord changes you'd swear you've never heard before or since. 'Bouncer See Bouncer' is 'The Electrician' only more so, two walls of industrial howling and clanging giving way all too briefly to a passage of indescribable beauty. 'Manhattan' may sound a bit too grandstanding at first, but reveals subtlety and customary intelligence on further listens. After this though, the album shifts a little too far away from our old friends melody and harmony on the tracks 'Face On Breast' and 'Bolivia' - they're undoubtedly worthy compositions, just not something that i've found a great deal of emotional significance in yet. No need for concern, as the next track 'Patriot (A Single)' brings a whole heap of mind-opening beauty and revelations, sounding like a distant cousin of that life-affirming 80's track 'Sleepwalker's Woman'. The title track brings, of all things, a vaguely country feel in its rolling rhythms and twanging guitar, which still manage to fit in amongst the esoteric poetry and unsettling arrangement. Closer 'Rosary' is a now-typical low key yet brooding parting shot, suggesting an inner conflict which may leave our consciousness as the album ends, but is never quite resolved. Why such an in-depth analysis? Well, it's simply impossible to be succinct about this one i'm afraid.
The newly-disembodied Scott with 'Patriot (A Single)' (great title!) from 1995's Tilt.
Same goes for 2006's 'The Drift'. The previous album sounds like a Phil Spector Christmas record next to the vast, uncomfortable open spaces of this one. First song 'Cossacks Are' is wonderfully misleading, its propulsive groove and towering guitar suggesting that Scott's gone all accessible on us. The lyrics are still a daunting mosaic if there ever was one, but you could be forgiven for expecting an easier ride. 'Clara' shocks you out of your complacency, being an extended epic covering myriad themes and emotions, all loosely connected to the final days of Mussolini's Italy. One section ("his enormous eyes...") appears through the mist of jarring chords and chattering percussion as a heart-skipping moment of clarity before the horror kicks back in. A punishing listen, but worth it. The unremittingly dense, violent mood makes the likes of 'Jesse' and 'Hand Me Ups' almost unbearable, but somehow you keep listening. One particularly nightmarish passage during the 10-minute 'Cue' appears so suddenly out of complete silence, you'll swear something's going seriously wrong with your brain. It's Scott who's putting himself through the emotional wrangler for you, though, digging up intrusive visions and disturbing dreams and scattering them across the grooves of the record. There's more conventional moments beauty in there too, though (parts of 'Buzzers' for instance), as well as some hypnotic percussion on 'Psoriatic' (who else would use such a title?!). Maddest moment of all though? Has to be the conclusion of the horrific 'Escape'. Either the sound of Scott crossing over to the other side or one of the darkest moments of humour since Chris Morris' 'Jam', Daffy Duck inexplicably appears during the crawling outro, screeching "What's Up Doc?" as the track fades. Absolute genius, whatever the intention. Overall, i would not advise anyone to listen to 'The Drift' very often. But when you're in the right mood for it, it presents unknown levels of fear, beauty and desolation.
'Cossacks Are'. By far the most accessible track from 2006's nightmarish The Drift.
As if that wasn't enough, there's the recent documentary '30 Century Man', which follows Scott's entire artistic development as well as featuring remarkable insights into the making of 'The Drift' (animal carcass percussion included). There's also a whole heap of input from various 'celebrities' and fellow artists, some contributing usefully to the thrust of the narrative, others just spouting drivel. I won't mention names, watch it for yourself, but it does hold an otherwise fascinating movie back from greatness.
Trailer for the flawed yet engrossing 30 Century Man documentary.
So yeah. That Scott Walker... he's a bit of alright isn't he?!
*******************************
2010 UPDATE
Told you it was heavy-going!
Scott continues his bold trek through icy, unwelcoming terrain. Although his music continues to mutate into ever stranger forms, the cracks of light into his borderline-hermitic existence created by the Stephen Kijak documentary seem to have brought the man a bit further into the public domain. Relatively speaking, of course. There have been a few collaborations, including an appearance on Bats For Lashes' most recent album and a special performance of Walker material at the London Barbican featuring the likes of Damon Albarn and Jarvis Cocker and with Scott behind the mixing desk (omnipresent cap in place). Scott's music probably reached a whole new audience after Alex Turner of The Arctic Monkeys released a rather-too-faithful love letter to his new hero with side project The Last Shadow Puppets. Of greater personal sigificance, and possibly my favourite Scott-related moment of recent years, was the use of a sample from 'Always Coming Back To You' on the Panda Bear track 'Take Pills', from his 2007 cult classic Person Pitch.
'Take Pills' by the wonderful Panda Bear.
The one pertinent point which i seem to have brushed over is the sheer divisive nature of Scott's music. Although recent critical renaissances would lead you to believe otherwise, there's a lot of people out there for whom Scott's voice is simply an immediate turn-off (in both its rich, classic form and its more disjointed current condition). I for one received a hell of a lot of stick at school during my teens for listening to what a few friends deemed to be "granny music". My Dad was also astonished to discover my love for all things Walker, claiming to have "hated" him during his 60's heyday. As the cliche goes, it's a real 'Marmite' issue. This divisiveness may be part of what makes his work so special, even addictive at times, to those who 'get' him. Ever since first hearing 'Plastic Palace People' on an NME compliation at the too-early age of 13 (it can do some pretty profound things to your psyche), i haven't looked back. I probably couldn't if i wanted to.
No comments:
Post a Comment