Jesus, this is beginning to feel like a fool's errand. Is anyone reading this damn blog, other than looky-loo's who see the address in my emails and give it a quick peek? Well, whatever, I'm just gonna keep trudging along here - if anyone is indeed reading, please let me know so I can figure out whether to close this thing down or not.
Anyway, here's the trippiest, creepiest record of year (yes, it's only May, but I'm confident here): Scott Walker's The Drift. It's his first album in seven years, and for an artist who has recorded his fair share of dark, Guignol, fucked-up shit, this record tops them all. I'm not yet sure what he's going on about - Jesus seems to be playing a role in this murky and lengthy narrative. The promo CD is one continual track, so it's hard to go back and review specific sections to deconstruct them. There's liner notes embedded on the CD itself, but I haven't bothered to look at them yet (so sue me!)
But it's one of those things - you hit play on the CD player and you're completely drawn into Walker's Caligari Cabinet. The arrangements are jittery and nervous-sounding - Walker doesn't settle into any musical idea for too long, lest you get comfortable. Quiet passages jump-cut into atonal bombast then back again, while Walker warbles away in his inimitable (well, not that inimitable - check out The Divine Comedy, who pretty much nicked his whole shtick from Walker) quavery baritone. The Drift is the kind of record that is enjoyably disturbing, and if that's your thing, check it out when it drops May 23rd.