As one third of the Walker Brothers, a trio of Americans in self-imposed exile in the UK, he experienced a level of superstardom that briefly rivalled that of the Beatles. Mid-60s songs like ‘Make It Easy On Yourself’ and ‘The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Any More’ made Scott, John and Gary the clean-cut pin-ups du jour. But entertainment, as they say, is a fickle business, and the success wasn’t to last.

As The Walker Brothers disintegrated, Scott – real name Noel Scott Engel, and no relation to his two bandmates – would strike off on his own, producing a string of albums in the late 60s that, while largely overlooked at the time, are now considered among the finest of the decade. Again, though, Walker would quickly lose his way, slipping into MOR obscurity for the majority of 70s. From there, many would happily have fallen into a lengthy, royalty-funded retirement. Not Scott. In the early 80s he would reinvent himself again, emerging from the ashes of a faltering light entertainment career to become one of the most brilliant and distinctive voices of the pop avant-garde.

Walker is still very much active now (last year’s Bish Bosch was of a piece with his best work), and his music continues to captivate and confuse with a force rarely attained by any musician of any generation. And while he has long had a cult following, a renewed frenzy of discourse in the past decade – the most visible products of which are a documentary and a book, both excellent – has helped cement Walker’s status as an underground hero with few equals.

In recent times Walker’s knotty, uncompromising and utterly unique body of work seems to be resonating with people more strongly than ever, with the likes of Radiohead, Jarvis Cocker, Damon Albarn and David Bowie singing his praises. But Walker’s is an imposing discography, and not an easy ride for the uninitiated. By way of introduction – and taking in love and loss, dead dictators and easily as much commercial failure as critical success – here are ten of Walker’s best.”

secretempires:

One of my favorite songs of all time.

black-sheep-girl:

There are medieval hermits whose lives are better documented than Scott Walker’s. But once upon a time he led Britain’s biggest boy band, was the sexiest, most charismatic star of his generation, and arguably the greatest white vocalist in pop history. Not only that, he was so moody and strange a whole mythology grew up around him. He walked away from fame when he could have become the new Sinatra. He was weirder than David Bowie, and too avant garde for Brian Eno. He’s still alive today, but that’s as much as anyone knows for sure. It’s rumoured he likes to ride a bicycle to his local pub and play a game of darts. He’s so mysterious that he makes Greta Garbo look like Denise Van Outen.

…

Here’s how Nik Cohn described him in his prime: “He was a light golden colour and he had all the equipment, the tragic mouth and misted eyes and fluttery lashes, the thin hands and soft hair, and he never managed more than a small sad smile. When he sang, his hands went up in front of his grieving face and, delicately, his body curled up like a lettuce leaf.”

…

Scott Walker recoiled from stardom like a vampire in the sunlight. He felt surrounded by bad men who stole his money and silly young girls who stole his soul. In late ’66 he went to stay in a monastery in the Isle of Wight, but he had to bale out when the teenyboppers turned up outside. Yet a kindly monk gave him a key to the monastery, and in old pin-up shots you can see him wearing it around his neck. The music biz, he announced, “is a big, phoney mess.” It was the point when everyone else was turning psychedelic, but Scott despised that trip as well. Used to peering into the soul’s black abyss, he had no time for blissed-out hippy gigglers. (Even today, it’s reported, he still “sees red” when you mention Glastonbury.)

…

Incidentally it’s worth remembering the name of Jacques Brel, if only because he comes in useful when you play that game about counting famous Belgians. Like all famous Belgians, Brel was often thought to be French and did indeed work the Paris jazz caves of the Left Bank, where his tormented warbles came to epitomise our image of stripey-jerseyed Gallic angst. Like Bowie later, Walker was infatuated by Brel, and covered the mordant songs Jackie, My Death, Amsterdam and Next. A critic wrote of these versions: “When Scott discovered Jacques Brel the effect was devastating…. Nobody in pop music has ever made more nihilistic, grandiose, debauched, schizophrenic, souls-in-torment, night-riding, heart-rending music…”

By Alex Denney, 12 April 2013.

decemberembers:

this is what i’ve been up to

Box set: Scott Walker - The Collection 1967-1970 
Release date: June 3rd 2013 
Label: Universal