Music/Info Dump: Scott Walker Edition
Jan. 29th, 2023 05:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
between_time_and_42Sooooo, for a few months now I've been wanting to infodump about the man, the myth, the legend that is/was Scott Walker, because I've been familiar with his music for four years but it wasn't until last year that I really started digging into it more and the more I discover about his career, the more my mind is blown. I'm not even sure if I LIKE his music or not, tbh, but I can't stop rotating it and him around in my mind like a rotisserie chicken. So, let's talk a little about Scott Walker.
(there's going to be a LOT of music sharing here so if anyone reads this and ends up not listening to any of the links, I am not going to be upset, I just need a place to rave about these songs and this person's career for a bit)
Who is Scott Walker?: Scott Walker was a musician. His career began in Los Angeles in the 60's, though he'd actually already had a brush with show business in the 50's as a child star, so by the time he was a young adult and his career really took off, he probably already knew the ins and outs of the industry pretty well. What I find to be most interesting about his background is that he was two years older than Ron Mael, and therefore five years older than Russell Mael, and both Sparks and Scott started their careers in Los Angeles, and by certain accounts, they seemed to have some similar interests in art films and the avant-garde. However, Sparks began making wacky, unconventional music right off the bat, whereas Scott... well, let's move on to the next point...
What did Scott Walker do?: Scott Walker made music. In the 60's, he co-founded the band The Walker Brothers with two other musicians. None of them were actually named Walker, but the stage name persisted for the rest of Scott's life. The Walker Brothers, unlike Sparks, were a very conventional 60's pop band, with Scott crooning love and heartbreak ballads in a gorgeous, rich baritone. I guess now is the time to pop in my first music link:
This is the Walker Brothers' biggest hit, "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore." I think it was their first featuring Scott on lead vocals, and after its success, he began to sing lead more often. Although I do think Scott's voice is lovely here, the main attraction for me is the arrangement. Those horns at the beginning remind me of "God Only Knows" by The Beach Boys, which of course was inspired mainly by the arrangement/production work of Phil Spector. And speaking of which, the strings and drums on the chorus sound just like one of Phil Spector's Wall of Sound productions... I'm not sure, but I think this might have been recorded in LA with some of the Wrecking Crew (at least, that's my initial assumption based on what it sounds like), so that would make sense, seeing as the Wrecking Crew were basically Phil Spector's in-studio band.
Scott's career with the Walker Brothers ended after 2 albums when he decided to go solo. He made 4 solo albums, all named Scott. Again, the songwriting was fairly conventional, as Scott covered a lot of... well, the word that springs to mind for me is "schmaltzy." But that isn't to say it's all bad, as this track, "Angelica," is one of my favorites from his first album.
I do have one problem with this track, which is that the mixing is ATROCIOUS... It sounds like it was originally mixed in mono, and then was very crudely mixed into stereo upon a re-release or something. The vocals are dead center in the stereo field, which is where they should be... but then the strings are panned far right, the woodwinds, horns, and drums are panned far left, and there's nothing else in the song, which makes it sound almost as if Scott is singing alone in a room while the strings are playing in the next room down the hall, and the rest of the band is playing in the next room over on the other side. There's just so much... emptiness in the middle of the stereo field. That being said, I have this album on vinyl and it doesn't bother me when I listen to the record, just when I listen to it on headphones. And also, this song is gorgeous imo. Giving it a listen now, I'm starting to think it's unfair of me to call it schmaltz. The intro has such a cool, dark vibe to it, and the chorus... *chef's kiss*
Not only did Scott cover songs, but he also began writing his own material at this time. There are a lot of good original songs from the period of Scott 1-4, but I'll share this one because shockingly enough, I noticed a few similarities with one of Madison Cunningham's recent songs (a song that I'll have to share around here soon). The similarities are so close that I feel her producer had to have been directly influenced, which warms my heart to see Scott Walker still being an influence in the 2020's.
Just listening to this now, I could go on an absolutely UNHINGED rant about the incredible vocal performance on this track, but I'll save that for a future installment of Nitpicky Vocal Critiques. Rest assured, from one singer to another- you GO, Scott. This is really a breathtaking performance.
Where did Scott Walker live?: As I mentioned before, Scott got his start in California, but as early as 1965, when he was still with The Walker Brothers, he ended up moving to the UK after first achieving success there- not unlike Sparks, who were another Californian music act to only become wildly popular after moving to the UK. I actually don't know when Scott moved there permanently, as I have read that he also lived in Denmark for a while after getting married (his wife being Danish), but I know that at least later in his career, he became an English citizen and stayed there for the rest of his life. He claimed later in life that he would not have been able to make the kind of music he eventually ended up making if he'd stayed in America, as American audiences weren't nearly as receptive to it as UK audiences. For now, however, while we're still discussing the 60's, living in the UK gave Scott the advantage of not only being where the Walker Brothers became established stars, thus allowing his music to be more widely recognized when he first went solo, but this was also where he first became acquainted with the music of Jacques Brel, which became very important for his career. I'm not a fan of Jacques Brel myself, but Scott was, and after being introduced to his music, he began to cover the English versions of his songs on his albums, which won him much acclaim as the first major English-language interpreter of those songs. My favorite of these recordings is "Jackie:"
Oh hey... you finally get to see what Scott looks like in this clip! Or rather, you get to see him in motion, which is more of a treat than just looking at the pictures on his album covers. This video is in my "Performance Inspiration" playlist because I love the confidence with which Scott sings and I really love the way he acts out the lyrics with his hand movements. "Jackie" is just such a fun song, too (though do keep in mind, the translator chose to use a racial slur and, given that it was the 60's, his usage of the word "queer" was not how it would be used nowadays, so if these words bother you and you want to listen to the song... try Jacques Brel's French version. I have a lot more to say about this translation but am trying not to go on too much of a tangent...)
So far we have established that Scott Walker was mainly a singer of pop/lounge/chanson music, and a writer of gloomy ballads, none of which would be out of place on the radio in the 60's. That last clip I linked is from a cheesy old variety show, the type of place where his music was regularly heard back then. He was fairly conventional, even if I wouldn't exactly call his work "mainstream." Did this image ever change? YOU BET.
When did Scott Walker make music?: After the 60's, Scott unfortunately fell into a bit of a decline. His last eponymous solo album, Scott 4, sold poorly (various theories have been given for this, but I think it probably sold poorly because for whatever reason, it was released under his real name, Scott Engel, so of course it sold poorly- people probably didn't think to look for it in the E section of the record store!). Because he was still obliged to a contract (and had a wife and child to support by this time), he had to keep making albums, so he put out five albums in the early to mid 70's that were all full of covers (except for the first one, which was half originals and half covers), and which have never been re-released given Scott's loathing of this period of his career. It's safe to say he didn't find any artistic merit in them, he just made them to make money. I won't be linking any songs from any of these albums, even though a few are on YouTube, as I haven't listened to any of them out of respect for Scott (and let's be honest, my expectations are not high). However, it was in the late 70's that a reunion of the Walker Brothers brought about some creative revitalization. After the Walker Brothers scored some success with a few singles, it was announced that the label they were on was folding, and therefore they were able to take risks with their final album, since they had nothing to lose. This resulted in four new Scott-penned songs, and let me tell you: I've listened to the whole album with an open mind. I thought... well, even though Scott's songs are the only ones anyone talks about, surely John and Gary's songs aren't THAT bad, just subpar in comparison. But honestly? The last four songs, all written by John "Walker," sound almost exactly the same. And I NEVER say that, because it's never true- but in this case, it was. If Scott hadn't been involved with this album, Gary's songs probably would have been decent album cuts. But they had the misfortune of being included on an album that also has THIS...
This is in my opinion, one of the greatest recordings of all time. I don't mean the song itself is an outstanding composition- I mean the recording. The way it sounds. The way it was arranged. The way it was mixed. I listen to this song and I picture greenish-yellow smog rising up from a charcoal-black city, while a silvery-green flash of lightning breaks the sky. I picture the "glass traps" opening and closing, though I can't describe what their purpose is exactly. I picture the view from the window of a plane as it comes in to land on the runway at night. This song makes me feel so alive, and I can never get tired of listening to it.
This album also featured a song called "The Electrician," also written by Scott, that's commonly cited as one of his best (it's talked about more than "Nite Flights" is) and also an indicator of the direction he was about to go in. But even though I recognize it as a great composition, I'm not going to link it because this post is long enough as is, and I feel that simply sharing "Nite Flights" will get the point across better that Scott had re-found his creative energy and was now making music that didn't sound like everything else. Any artist would be content with that, but as his next albums proved, Scott had to go further.
In the 80's, Scott released one album, Climate of the Hunter. Unfortunately I haven't heard it yet, so I acknowledge that this writeup is missing an important cornerstone. I'll have to get around to hearing it soon. Anyway, this was released 6 years after Nite Flights, and it took Scott 11 years to follow up Climate of the Hunter with a new solo album. But when 1995 rolled around... oh boy. I doubt anyone was ready for what hit them when they first bought and played Tilt. Imagine getting the CD (or record? did they still make records in the 90's?), popping it into your player, and being greeted with THIS for the first time:
I. Love. This. Song. Subtitled "Remembering Pasolini," this song draws inspiration from a love poem written by film director Pier Paolo Pasolini for his lover, Ninetto Davoli- but rather than being a heartwarming and sweet affirmation of life, the song sounds like a requiem for the deceased, most likely referring to the fact that Pasolini had his life cut short when he was murdered at the age of 53. Scott's voice is still gorgeous, but it sounds different now- noticeably older, for sure, but instead of commanding the song with his presence as he used to do when crooning love ballads, his voice sounds more like an instrument subtly mixed in with the rest of the arrangement. It's as if he's become the actor rather than the director. He's also singing in a higher register than he used to. And the arrangement... ohhh, that string arrangement, when it hits the major chord at 5:25, moments like that are what music was invented for. The classical influence is all over this piece, and fittingly enough, the orchestral instruments here were recorded by the London Sinfonia. It's beautiful, it's eerie, it's certainly attention-grabbing, and it's the kind of opening track that makes a listener wonder, "what in the world could follow that?!" If this had been the first Scott Walker song I'd ever heard, I would have been sold.
Unfortunately, the first Scott Walker song I ever heard was not "Farmer In the City," but rather "Bouncer See Bouncer."
Story time! It was a pleasant night in late March 2019, and I was leaving work for the night. At my old job, I usually left around 9 PM, and I would listen to local independent radio driving to and from work. When I got in the car and turned on the radio this night, I was greeted by a very unusual... song? Could I even call it a song? The aural landscape was incredibly sparse, with only a pounding drum and the faint jingle of what sounded like rattling chains backing an extremely distinctive voice. I'll never forget my exact reaction to hearing that voice for the first time: "Who is this opera singer pretending to be Blackstar-era David Bowie?" As I drove on, the song shifted with zero warning whatsoever into a lush, string-laden section, with the singer announcing that he loved this season "without its cleft, left cross to the right foot, right cross to the left." It sounded like the lyrics to some silly children's dance song- but the way it was being presented was nothing at all that sounded to me to be suitable for children. I was terrified. I couldn't wait to get home and get out of the car. The first thing I did upon reaching my house was to pull out my phone and look up the radio station's playlist. Right there at the bottom of the list was the name of the mystery song: "Bouncer See Bouncer," by Scott Walker. Scott Walker! That was a name I recognized. Several artists I listened to (yes, including Bowie, but also Damon Albarn and, as I would discover later, The Divine Comedy) were huge fans and had cited him as an influence, and I had even once been recommended a documentary about him, but I hadn't watched it. All I'd known about Scott Walker prior to this was that his music was considered avant-garde. I just hadn't expected it to be THIS avant-garde. And there you go... that was my first introduction to Scott Walker.
But wait, there's more. No matter how independent a station is, you don't just play a late-era Scott Walker track without reason for it. The next day, when I was heading into work, I was startled to hear that same strange voice on the radio! "What? Why are they playing this guy AGAIN?" Figuring that this was a sign and I needed to find out more about Scott Walker, I promptly googled his name and clicked on his Wikipedia page. The first thing I saw was a date, March 22. Oh! Yesterday was his birthday! That must have been why... But then I noticed that the year following this date was 2019, and it sunk in. It wasn't his birthday that the station had been celebrating. It was his death that the station had been mourning.
Even though Tilt was my first proper introduction to Scott Walker, his story didn't end in 1995. In 2006 (another 11 whole years), he released an album called The Drift, which is widely considered to be one of the most frightening albums of all time. Being a wimp who can't even read the synopses of horror movies without having to sleep with a light on, I've only managed to make it halfway through this album (though I should say, the hype for it was worse than the actual experience of listening to it, as I was such a nervous wreck over what I MIGHT hear on the album that I couldn't really enjoy what I actually DID hear on the album). But I did listen long enough to determine that this is a masterpiece:
As a warning, this piece is NOT for the faint of heart. It tells the real-life story of the execution of Benito Mussolini and his lover Clara Petacci, and to simulate the sound of their bodies being beaten with sticks, Scott had a percussionist come into the recording studio and punch a side of meat multiple times. At times, a horrifying ascending string section will play without warning, making it sound as if Scott is singing from within some sort of nightmarish hellscape. All the same, even though it is definitely NOT something I can just throw on and listen to... I find this piece to be as beautiful as it is gruesome. The parts that make the whole song, for me, are the section where Clara relays her feelings of being a swallow mistakenly trapped inside and hitting its head against the walls (in her own voice, no less- I forgot the name of the singer, but her voice is lovely, and it means a lot to me that this female character was allowed to speak in a voice all her own), and the very last lines of the song, in which Scott speaks about finding a swallow trapped in his room and releasing it from the window, thus revealing that he sympathizes with Clara. (He also has just as pleasant a speaking voice as a singing voice- and despite the horrors that he's singing about, his voice is still as beautiful as ever. Say what you will about Scott Walker, but his voice is the one thing I can't imagine anyone ever criticizing.) Overall, "Clara" is an intense piece of music that pulls no punches- but it's also a very rewarding listen, for anyone in the right mood. Just... don't listen to it at night. (A disturbingly large amount of fans say that the best way to listen to The Drift for the first time is at night with the lights turned off. Sorry, but that's a no from me, dawg. Unless you want me to have insomnia for the rest of my life.)
This post is so very long already, and I am so very sorry, but I have one more piece of music to share. Scott's last album, released in 2014, was a collaboration with the band Sunn 0))). Prior to that, in 2012, he made his last true solo album, Bish Bosch. It's... well, how should I put this... Without a doubt, it is the strangest album I've ever heard in my life. And I've heard Trout Mask Replica by Captain Beefheart.
Let's start with this... song, if you will:
Look, by the time I heard this song, I thought I knew what I was getting into. It's Scott! The master of dark, terrifying music! Better listen to this in full daylight, while still in bed... But I didn't get that darkness. I just got weirdness. This song sounds a bit like an alien who's never heard pop music before trying to make a pop song based on humans' descriptions of it. It also just sounds a bit like a human who knows full well what pop music is and decided to try and make the exact opposite of that. And y'know what? As I listen back to it now, I realize... I actually kind of like it. (Though that wasn't my initial reaction to Bish Bosch, I must confess... for a few solid days after hearing it, I genuinely felt as if my life was now worse off for having heard this album.) I wouldn't say this song really needs a warning in the way that "Clara" does- it's just a bit jarring and messy, like if you were having a stroke at a jazz band concert. I promise if you make it to the end, you'll get a hilarious pay-off. (Or maybe I'm insane for finding it funny, because I also laugh every time those painfully piercing horns come in.)
Oh, and by the way, this is perhaps the most accessible track on the album. Make of that what you will.
Why did Scott Walker make the kind of music he made?: Here's the thing. The reason Bish Bosch distressed me so much is that I do NOT understand where it came from. The entire album is full of weirdness like "Epizootics!," only taken to the extremes. There are fart noises used as a backing track. There's Scott screaming at the top of his lungs. There's a song about yet another political execution, presented in the form of a personality test with yes and no choices, that ends with a brief rendition of "Jingle Bells." There's the sound of machetes being sharpened. The album opens with fierce drumming that sounds like the rapid fire of a machine gun, but is actually intended to represent the movement of a duck's legs underwater. None of the songs have lyrics that repeat, I don't think any of them rhyme, a lot of the vocabulary is stuff that you'd need a dictionary and an encyclopedia to decipher, and throughout it all, Scott continues to sing in that rich, heavenly voice. It's probably the most un-musical music I've ever heard. And it was all made by a 69-year-old man.
Part of me feels like this type of music is, somehow, Scott's way of making up for all the years he spent mindlessly churning out crap to get out of a contract. But another part of me thinks... man, maybe that was truly his own form of self-expression. I recently watched that documentary that had been recommended to me so long ago, Scott Walker: 30 Century Man, and some parts that struck me were the clips of Scott working in the studio. Many musicians said that he was difficult to work with in the studio, but this clip suggests otherwise:
Here's Scott Walker working with a percussionist on a song from The Drift- that nightmare of album. If anything, this clip is necessary in that it reveals Scott to be... just some guy. He painstakingly searches for the right sound he wants, hears out the percussionist as he tries different mallets, describes in no uncertain terms what he's looking for but is willing to experiment instead of settle on one idea, checks in to make sure that the percussionist is ready before asking for another take, and finally at the end, he praises his work before announcing that he's ready to move on. Overall, I found myself impressed by his professionalism, and not once did I get the sense that the percussionist felt uncomfortable or eager to please. He was just another hired musician, and Scott was just another producer.
So... having seen that, the question comes around... How could this man be SO NORMAL, and yet make music that is SO ABNORMAL? Somehow, the thought of a person like this having existed is both exciting and terrifying to me. If someone as normal as Scott Walker can stretch the bounds of creativity in such a way, then anyone can. But... no one has, not that I know of. It's like what Brian Eno says in the documentary, about how listening to "Nite Flights" is disappointing because: "We haven't gotten any further than this."
(One final Scott/Sparks connection: The two have both collaborated with film director Leos Carax, Scott as the composer of the score for his film Pola X, and Sparks as the writers of Annette. The more you know. Also, Sparks also have one of those albums that opens with a track that makes you go “how could anything follow that?!”, only theirs is “The Rhythm Thief” from Lil’ Beethoven. And finally, on a personal note, Sparks and Scott are similar in that both were/are intensely private about their personal lives. I know that a lot of fans were surprised to learn from Scott’s obituary that he had a daughter, a granddaughter, and a partner who wasn't the woman he married in the 60’s. Some even wondered why Scott had never talked about his family in interviews before (never mind that he rarely gave interviews anyway later in his career). To me, the notion of people wondering is strange because it makes sense if you look at Sparks’ stated reason for not discussing personal matters in interviews. They say they only want fans to care about their music, not about who they are as people. I’m sure that’s the same reason Scott never talked about his personal life, either. How can knowing that a person has a family make their music any more interesting or appealing? I just find it interesting that these musicians with similar backgrounds would both take this approach to their life and career, and I wonder if they knew of each other’s work and what they thought… I guess it’s too late to hear from Scott, but I would LOVE to know what the Maels think of him.)
(there's going to be a LOT of music sharing here so if anyone reads this and ends up not listening to any of the links, I am not going to be upset, I just need a place to rave about these songs and this person's career for a bit)
Who is Scott Walker?: Scott Walker was a musician. His career began in Los Angeles in the 60's, though he'd actually already had a brush with show business in the 50's as a child star, so by the time he was a young adult and his career really took off, he probably already knew the ins and outs of the industry pretty well. What I find to be most interesting about his background is that he was two years older than Ron Mael, and therefore five years older than Russell Mael, and both Sparks and Scott started their careers in Los Angeles, and by certain accounts, they seemed to have some similar interests in art films and the avant-garde. However, Sparks began making wacky, unconventional music right off the bat, whereas Scott... well, let's move on to the next point...
What did Scott Walker do?: Scott Walker made music. In the 60's, he co-founded the band The Walker Brothers with two other musicians. None of them were actually named Walker, but the stage name persisted for the rest of Scott's life. The Walker Brothers, unlike Sparks, were a very conventional 60's pop band, with Scott crooning love and heartbreak ballads in a gorgeous, rich baritone. I guess now is the time to pop in my first music link:
This is the Walker Brothers' biggest hit, "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore." I think it was their first featuring Scott on lead vocals, and after its success, he began to sing lead more often. Although I do think Scott's voice is lovely here, the main attraction for me is the arrangement. Those horns at the beginning remind me of "God Only Knows" by The Beach Boys, which of course was inspired mainly by the arrangement/production work of Phil Spector. And speaking of which, the strings and drums on the chorus sound just like one of Phil Spector's Wall of Sound productions... I'm not sure, but I think this might have been recorded in LA with some of the Wrecking Crew (at least, that's my initial assumption based on what it sounds like), so that would make sense, seeing as the Wrecking Crew were basically Phil Spector's in-studio band.
Scott's career with the Walker Brothers ended after 2 albums when he decided to go solo. He made 4 solo albums, all named Scott. Again, the songwriting was fairly conventional, as Scott covered a lot of... well, the word that springs to mind for me is "schmaltzy." But that isn't to say it's all bad, as this track, "Angelica," is one of my favorites from his first album.
I do have one problem with this track, which is that the mixing is ATROCIOUS... It sounds like it was originally mixed in mono, and then was very crudely mixed into stereo upon a re-release or something. The vocals are dead center in the stereo field, which is where they should be... but then the strings are panned far right, the woodwinds, horns, and drums are panned far left, and there's nothing else in the song, which makes it sound almost as if Scott is singing alone in a room while the strings are playing in the next room down the hall, and the rest of the band is playing in the next room over on the other side. There's just so much... emptiness in the middle of the stereo field. That being said, I have this album on vinyl and it doesn't bother me when I listen to the record, just when I listen to it on headphones. And also, this song is gorgeous imo. Giving it a listen now, I'm starting to think it's unfair of me to call it schmaltz. The intro has such a cool, dark vibe to it, and the chorus... *chef's kiss*
Not only did Scott cover songs, but he also began writing his own material at this time. There are a lot of good original songs from the period of Scott 1-4, but I'll share this one because shockingly enough, I noticed a few similarities with one of Madison Cunningham's recent songs (a song that I'll have to share around here soon). The similarities are so close that I feel her producer had to have been directly influenced, which warms my heart to see Scott Walker still being an influence in the 2020's.
Just listening to this now, I could go on an absolutely UNHINGED rant about the incredible vocal performance on this track, but I'll save that for a future installment of Nitpicky Vocal Critiques. Rest assured, from one singer to another- you GO, Scott. This is really a breathtaking performance.
Where did Scott Walker live?: As I mentioned before, Scott got his start in California, but as early as 1965, when he was still with The Walker Brothers, he ended up moving to the UK after first achieving success there- not unlike Sparks, who were another Californian music act to only become wildly popular after moving to the UK. I actually don't know when Scott moved there permanently, as I have read that he also lived in Denmark for a while after getting married (his wife being Danish), but I know that at least later in his career, he became an English citizen and stayed there for the rest of his life. He claimed later in life that he would not have been able to make the kind of music he eventually ended up making if he'd stayed in America, as American audiences weren't nearly as receptive to it as UK audiences. For now, however, while we're still discussing the 60's, living in the UK gave Scott the advantage of not only being where the Walker Brothers became established stars, thus allowing his music to be more widely recognized when he first went solo, but this was also where he first became acquainted with the music of Jacques Brel, which became very important for his career. I'm not a fan of Jacques Brel myself, but Scott was, and after being introduced to his music, he began to cover the English versions of his songs on his albums, which won him much acclaim as the first major English-language interpreter of those songs. My favorite of these recordings is "Jackie:"
Oh hey... you finally get to see what Scott looks like in this clip! Or rather, you get to see him in motion, which is more of a treat than just looking at the pictures on his album covers. This video is in my "Performance Inspiration" playlist because I love the confidence with which Scott sings and I really love the way he acts out the lyrics with his hand movements. "Jackie" is just such a fun song, too (though do keep in mind, the translator chose to use a racial slur and, given that it was the 60's, his usage of the word "queer" was not how it would be used nowadays, so if these words bother you and you want to listen to the song... try Jacques Brel's French version. I have a lot more to say about this translation but am trying not to go on too much of a tangent...)
So far we have established that Scott Walker was mainly a singer of pop/lounge/chanson music, and a writer of gloomy ballads, none of which would be out of place on the radio in the 60's. That last clip I linked is from a cheesy old variety show, the type of place where his music was regularly heard back then. He was fairly conventional, even if I wouldn't exactly call his work "mainstream." Did this image ever change? YOU BET.
When did Scott Walker make music?: After the 60's, Scott unfortunately fell into a bit of a decline. His last eponymous solo album, Scott 4, sold poorly (various theories have been given for this, but I think it probably sold poorly because for whatever reason, it was released under his real name, Scott Engel, so of course it sold poorly- people probably didn't think to look for it in the E section of the record store!). Because he was still obliged to a contract (and had a wife and child to support by this time), he had to keep making albums, so he put out five albums in the early to mid 70's that were all full of covers (except for the first one, which was half originals and half covers), and which have never been re-released given Scott's loathing of this period of his career. It's safe to say he didn't find any artistic merit in them, he just made them to make money. I won't be linking any songs from any of these albums, even though a few are on YouTube, as I haven't listened to any of them out of respect for Scott (and let's be honest, my expectations are not high). However, it was in the late 70's that a reunion of the Walker Brothers brought about some creative revitalization. After the Walker Brothers scored some success with a few singles, it was announced that the label they were on was folding, and therefore they were able to take risks with their final album, since they had nothing to lose. This resulted in four new Scott-penned songs, and let me tell you: I've listened to the whole album with an open mind. I thought... well, even though Scott's songs are the only ones anyone talks about, surely John and Gary's songs aren't THAT bad, just subpar in comparison. But honestly? The last four songs, all written by John "Walker," sound almost exactly the same. And I NEVER say that, because it's never true- but in this case, it was. If Scott hadn't been involved with this album, Gary's songs probably would have been decent album cuts. But they had the misfortune of being included on an album that also has THIS...
This is in my opinion, one of the greatest recordings of all time. I don't mean the song itself is an outstanding composition- I mean the recording. The way it sounds. The way it was arranged. The way it was mixed. I listen to this song and I picture greenish-yellow smog rising up from a charcoal-black city, while a silvery-green flash of lightning breaks the sky. I picture the "glass traps" opening and closing, though I can't describe what their purpose is exactly. I picture the view from the window of a plane as it comes in to land on the runway at night. This song makes me feel so alive, and I can never get tired of listening to it.
This album also featured a song called "The Electrician," also written by Scott, that's commonly cited as one of his best (it's talked about more than "Nite Flights" is) and also an indicator of the direction he was about to go in. But even though I recognize it as a great composition, I'm not going to link it because this post is long enough as is, and I feel that simply sharing "Nite Flights" will get the point across better that Scott had re-found his creative energy and was now making music that didn't sound like everything else. Any artist would be content with that, but as his next albums proved, Scott had to go further.
In the 80's, Scott released one album, Climate of the Hunter. Unfortunately I haven't heard it yet, so I acknowledge that this writeup is missing an important cornerstone. I'll have to get around to hearing it soon. Anyway, this was released 6 years after Nite Flights, and it took Scott 11 years to follow up Climate of the Hunter with a new solo album. But when 1995 rolled around... oh boy. I doubt anyone was ready for what hit them when they first bought and played Tilt. Imagine getting the CD (or record? did they still make records in the 90's?), popping it into your player, and being greeted with THIS for the first time:
I. Love. This. Song. Subtitled "Remembering Pasolini," this song draws inspiration from a love poem written by film director Pier Paolo Pasolini for his lover, Ninetto Davoli- but rather than being a heartwarming and sweet affirmation of life, the song sounds like a requiem for the deceased, most likely referring to the fact that Pasolini had his life cut short when he was murdered at the age of 53. Scott's voice is still gorgeous, but it sounds different now- noticeably older, for sure, but instead of commanding the song with his presence as he used to do when crooning love ballads, his voice sounds more like an instrument subtly mixed in with the rest of the arrangement. It's as if he's become the actor rather than the director. He's also singing in a higher register than he used to. And the arrangement... ohhh, that string arrangement, when it hits the major chord at 5:25, moments like that are what music was invented for. The classical influence is all over this piece, and fittingly enough, the orchestral instruments here were recorded by the London Sinfonia. It's beautiful, it's eerie, it's certainly attention-grabbing, and it's the kind of opening track that makes a listener wonder, "what in the world could follow that?!" If this had been the first Scott Walker song I'd ever heard, I would have been sold.
Unfortunately, the first Scott Walker song I ever heard was not "Farmer In the City," but rather "Bouncer See Bouncer."
Story time! It was a pleasant night in late March 2019, and I was leaving work for the night. At my old job, I usually left around 9 PM, and I would listen to local independent radio driving to and from work. When I got in the car and turned on the radio this night, I was greeted by a very unusual... song? Could I even call it a song? The aural landscape was incredibly sparse, with only a pounding drum and the faint jingle of what sounded like rattling chains backing an extremely distinctive voice. I'll never forget my exact reaction to hearing that voice for the first time: "Who is this opera singer pretending to be Blackstar-era David Bowie?" As I drove on, the song shifted with zero warning whatsoever into a lush, string-laden section, with the singer announcing that he loved this season "without its cleft, left cross to the right foot, right cross to the left." It sounded like the lyrics to some silly children's dance song- but the way it was being presented was nothing at all that sounded to me to be suitable for children. I was terrified. I couldn't wait to get home and get out of the car. The first thing I did upon reaching my house was to pull out my phone and look up the radio station's playlist. Right there at the bottom of the list was the name of the mystery song: "Bouncer See Bouncer," by Scott Walker. Scott Walker! That was a name I recognized. Several artists I listened to (yes, including Bowie, but also Damon Albarn and, as I would discover later, The Divine Comedy) were huge fans and had cited him as an influence, and I had even once been recommended a documentary about him, but I hadn't watched it. All I'd known about Scott Walker prior to this was that his music was considered avant-garde. I just hadn't expected it to be THIS avant-garde. And there you go... that was my first introduction to Scott Walker.
But wait, there's more. No matter how independent a station is, you don't just play a late-era Scott Walker track without reason for it. The next day, when I was heading into work, I was startled to hear that same strange voice on the radio! "What? Why are they playing this guy AGAIN?" Figuring that this was a sign and I needed to find out more about Scott Walker, I promptly googled his name and clicked on his Wikipedia page. The first thing I saw was a date, March 22. Oh! Yesterday was his birthday! That must have been why... But then I noticed that the year following this date was 2019, and it sunk in. It wasn't his birthday that the station had been celebrating. It was his death that the station had been mourning.
Even though Tilt was my first proper introduction to Scott Walker, his story didn't end in 1995. In 2006 (another 11 whole years), he released an album called The Drift, which is widely considered to be one of the most frightening albums of all time. Being a wimp who can't even read the synopses of horror movies without having to sleep with a light on, I've only managed to make it halfway through this album (though I should say, the hype for it was worse than the actual experience of listening to it, as I was such a nervous wreck over what I MIGHT hear on the album that I couldn't really enjoy what I actually DID hear on the album). But I did listen long enough to determine that this is a masterpiece:
As a warning, this piece is NOT for the faint of heart. It tells the real-life story of the execution of Benito Mussolini and his lover Clara Petacci, and to simulate the sound of their bodies being beaten with sticks, Scott had a percussionist come into the recording studio and punch a side of meat multiple times. At times, a horrifying ascending string section will play without warning, making it sound as if Scott is singing from within some sort of nightmarish hellscape. All the same, even though it is definitely NOT something I can just throw on and listen to... I find this piece to be as beautiful as it is gruesome. The parts that make the whole song, for me, are the section where Clara relays her feelings of being a swallow mistakenly trapped inside and hitting its head against the walls (in her own voice, no less- I forgot the name of the singer, but her voice is lovely, and it means a lot to me that this female character was allowed to speak in a voice all her own), and the very last lines of the song, in which Scott speaks about finding a swallow trapped in his room and releasing it from the window, thus revealing that he sympathizes with Clara. (He also has just as pleasant a speaking voice as a singing voice- and despite the horrors that he's singing about, his voice is still as beautiful as ever. Say what you will about Scott Walker, but his voice is the one thing I can't imagine anyone ever criticizing.) Overall, "Clara" is an intense piece of music that pulls no punches- but it's also a very rewarding listen, for anyone in the right mood. Just... don't listen to it at night. (A disturbingly large amount of fans say that the best way to listen to The Drift for the first time is at night with the lights turned off. Sorry, but that's a no from me, dawg. Unless you want me to have insomnia for the rest of my life.)
This post is so very long already, and I am so very sorry, but I have one more piece of music to share. Scott's last album, released in 2014, was a collaboration with the band Sunn 0))). Prior to that, in 2012, he made his last true solo album, Bish Bosch. It's... well, how should I put this... Without a doubt, it is the strangest album I've ever heard in my life. And I've heard Trout Mask Replica by Captain Beefheart.
Let's start with this... song, if you will:
Look, by the time I heard this song, I thought I knew what I was getting into. It's Scott! The master of dark, terrifying music! Better listen to this in full daylight, while still in bed... But I didn't get that darkness. I just got weirdness. This song sounds a bit like an alien who's never heard pop music before trying to make a pop song based on humans' descriptions of it. It also just sounds a bit like a human who knows full well what pop music is and decided to try and make the exact opposite of that. And y'know what? As I listen back to it now, I realize... I actually kind of like it. (Though that wasn't my initial reaction to Bish Bosch, I must confess... for a few solid days after hearing it, I genuinely felt as if my life was now worse off for having heard this album.) I wouldn't say this song really needs a warning in the way that "Clara" does- it's just a bit jarring and messy, like if you were having a stroke at a jazz band concert. I promise if you make it to the end, you'll get a hilarious pay-off. (Or maybe I'm insane for finding it funny, because I also laugh every time those painfully piercing horns come in.)
Oh, and by the way, this is perhaps the most accessible track on the album. Make of that what you will.
Why did Scott Walker make the kind of music he made?: Here's the thing. The reason Bish Bosch distressed me so much is that I do NOT understand where it came from. The entire album is full of weirdness like "Epizootics!," only taken to the extremes. There are fart noises used as a backing track. There's Scott screaming at the top of his lungs. There's a song about yet another political execution, presented in the form of a personality test with yes and no choices, that ends with a brief rendition of "Jingle Bells." There's the sound of machetes being sharpened. The album opens with fierce drumming that sounds like the rapid fire of a machine gun, but is actually intended to represent the movement of a duck's legs underwater. None of the songs have lyrics that repeat, I don't think any of them rhyme, a lot of the vocabulary is stuff that you'd need a dictionary and an encyclopedia to decipher, and throughout it all, Scott continues to sing in that rich, heavenly voice. It's probably the most un-musical music I've ever heard. And it was all made by a 69-year-old man.
Part of me feels like this type of music is, somehow, Scott's way of making up for all the years he spent mindlessly churning out crap to get out of a contract. But another part of me thinks... man, maybe that was truly his own form of self-expression. I recently watched that documentary that had been recommended to me so long ago, Scott Walker: 30 Century Man, and some parts that struck me were the clips of Scott working in the studio. Many musicians said that he was difficult to work with in the studio, but this clip suggests otherwise:
Here's Scott Walker working with a percussionist on a song from The Drift- that nightmare of album. If anything, this clip is necessary in that it reveals Scott to be... just some guy. He painstakingly searches for the right sound he wants, hears out the percussionist as he tries different mallets, describes in no uncertain terms what he's looking for but is willing to experiment instead of settle on one idea, checks in to make sure that the percussionist is ready before asking for another take, and finally at the end, he praises his work before announcing that he's ready to move on. Overall, I found myself impressed by his professionalism, and not once did I get the sense that the percussionist felt uncomfortable or eager to please. He was just another hired musician, and Scott was just another producer.
So... having seen that, the question comes around... How could this man be SO NORMAL, and yet make music that is SO ABNORMAL? Somehow, the thought of a person like this having existed is both exciting and terrifying to me. If someone as normal as Scott Walker can stretch the bounds of creativity in such a way, then anyone can. But... no one has, not that I know of. It's like what Brian Eno says in the documentary, about how listening to "Nite Flights" is disappointing because: "We haven't gotten any further than this."
(One final Scott/Sparks connection: The two have both collaborated with film director Leos Carax, Scott as the composer of the score for his film Pola X, and Sparks as the writers of Annette. The more you know. Also, Sparks also have one of those albums that opens with a track that makes you go “how could anything follow that?!”, only theirs is “The Rhythm Thief” from Lil’ Beethoven. And finally, on a personal note, Sparks and Scott are similar in that both were/are intensely private about their personal lives. I know that a lot of fans were surprised to learn from Scott’s obituary that he had a daughter, a granddaughter, and a partner who wasn't the woman he married in the 60’s. Some even wondered why Scott had never talked about his family in interviews before (never mind that he rarely gave interviews anyway later in his career). To me, the notion of people wondering is strange because it makes sense if you look at Sparks’ stated reason for not discussing personal matters in interviews. They say they only want fans to care about their music, not about who they are as people. I’m sure that’s the same reason Scott never talked about his personal life, either. How can knowing that a person has a family make their music any more interesting or appealing? I just find it interesting that these musicians with similar backgrounds would both take this approach to their life and career, and I wonder if they knew of each other’s work and what they thought… I guess it’s too late to hear from Scott, but I would LOVE to know what the Maels think of him.)
