Posted in: Musicouching by J R Carroll on April 1st, 2008 | 0 Comments
An appreciation of a very under-rated record.
A shaken cowbell, some fretless bass, overproduced drums and the words:
“This is how you disappear out between midnight”
And so begins the first and last Scott Walker album of the 1980’s. Funnily enough, it’s also the first and last album he made for Virgin Records. It’s a stark, unsettling album that only makes sense at night – it wasn’t a big seller by any stretch of the imagination.
Compared to the MOR dreck, “We Had It All” released in 1974, the ten year gap between releasing albums certainly proved to be a wise career hiatus. Anyone familiar with the haunting qualities of Walker’s songs from his handful of solo releases in 1969 or those found on the final Walker Brothers album, “Nite Flights” from 1978, should certainly have an idea of what to expect on this record.
The music is maybe a little dated. It’s all shimmering synths and dry drums. A little too much 80’s brittleness for some tastes. The lyrics, phrasing and singing override that for me though. It’s hard to truly decipher any real meaning from the lyrics. There’s deep imagery ingrained in every track. It’s the soundtrack to a dark future where technology is at war with the unknown.
There’s a few tracks on this record that are titled after their order number, “Track Three” is a standout. Possibly the most leftfield appearance for Billy Ocean’s career and he provides the most wildest harmony singing. I dare anyone to try and sing along with that harmony. I have a long standing suspicion that he nailed it a few takes too, the fucker. “Track Six” is one of the most haunting tracks on the album courtesy of an overdubbing of clarinets coming across as a very bloodthirsty gaggle of geese. It’s not a track to fuck by.
The album ends, at a brief 30 minutes with the very straight sounding, “Blanket Roll Blues”. It’s has if the rest of the album has been some intense, acid-fuelled nightmare and the final track provides the first rays of sunlight creeping through the curtains.
Though very much of it’s time, this record is worth exploring. If nothing else, it serves as refreshing antithesis to the banal, lightweight pop that the 1980’s is unfortunately remembered for It also serves as the perfect primer to the increased intensity of Walker’s sole 1990’s release, “Tilt”.
