•
Rating:
"Hitchcock is transforming from Syd Barrett into John Lennon", it may well be an amusing provocation, but Robyn's Barrett-like attempts have always caused me a certain embarrassment. However, Moss Elixir is a well-structured album, no longer "Beatlesque" or a fake of much of the work of the Egyptians (the most scandalous peaks remain on Element of Light); the lack of melodic hooks, which so scandalizes Scaruffi here, requires repeated listening: Heliotrope, Filthy Bird, Sinister But She Was Happy are gems of his entire career, arranged moreover with sparse timbral wisdom (the sound is particularly well-crafted, perhaps due to the increased availability of time and funds resulting from the move to Warner Bros.); elsewhere one can breathe a good air of competent singer-songwriter craftsmanship, as in Beautiful Queen, The Speed of Things (rural semigospel in the style of Each of Her Silver Wands).
A couple of slip-ups (primarily the shameful Alright, Yeah) can be forgiven.
This is not the Soft Boys and not the quirky minstrel of Eye, this is the mature Hitchcock.
Tracklist and Lyrics
04 Alright, Yeah (02:55)
I gotta go
But it won't be so
I don't be back again
I gotta leave
But I don't believe
We won't be back again
No no no no
Everything's inside another
No no no no no, alright yeah
I gotta walk
But I'm gonna put my fork
Next to your spoon
I gotta split
It's a quaint
Old-fashioned way to leave the room the room
Smell them burning leaves
Everyone beside another
No no no no no, alright yeah
Whatever you pray to
That's were you belong
I'm gonna get mine someday
I'm gonna get mine
I gotta laugh
But there's half
Of me that wants to sit and cry
I gotta split
It's a quaint
Old-fashioned way to say goodbye, goodbye
What's your mother for?
Not a launchpad for your father
No no no no no, alright yeah
Alright yeah
Alright... yeah
Alright, Yeah (in Swedish)
lag mastc ga, men det ar inte att jag inte
kommer tillbaks
lag maste sticka, men jag tror inte att vi
inte kommer tillbaks
Nej nej ncj nej, allt ar inuti nit annat
Nej nej nej nej nej, okej yeah
Jag Illastc ga, men jag lagger min gaffel
jamtc din skcd
Jag maste dra, ett uraldrat satt att lamna
tummet pa
Sc dom brinnande loven, lov pa lov
Nej nej nej nej nej, okej yeah
Vad du an ber till, det ar till den du hot
Jag fir vad jag fortianar
Vad jag fortjanar
Jag maste skrarta, men halften av mig vill
sitta ned och grata
Jag mastedra, ert uraldrat sart att saga hej
da hej da
For vad ar din mor? Inte en start platta at
din far
Nej nej nej nej nej, okej yeah
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