Scott Walker
Tilt

THE REVIEW

Imagine a former child prodigy who suddenly goes off the rails like few others have, throws away a promising career as a new Jacques Brel, adored by women, and spends many years in pubs drinking and watching people play darts.
Well, this is the life Scott Walker led for a long time before coming back with a record completely outside any market logic.

With Tilt, Walker creates a work that is nothing short of disorienting and monstrous, where the obsessions of a former alcoholic are laid out on a bed of electronics or barely hinted notes.
Everything is a stirring in the murky depths of passions confined in the depths of the gut; as if after years of anarchic and fun drinking with friends, you discover you lack the enzymes to burn alcohol... in the grip of daytime visions that mimic the function of dreams.
This is Tilt: an album that might seem like the brainchild of a David Sylvian who has finally learned to defecate outside the jar; an orgy of negative feelings that sends all the Elizabeth Vajagic and Nick Cave, his declared fan, home to drink milk and mint.

Scott Walker is a hidden genius, a victim of his own misanthropy and whimsical moods.
He has written brilliant love songs and then plunged into an anguishing and deaf minimalism, but highly recommended to those who want to find a voice that says, "hey, you're not the only one feeling bad..." a bit of the same old tune.....
The album cover reveals what awaits you upon listening: hands and eyes trapped in the black ink of life; like a Pollock painting where the urgency is so high that you can't sit there calculating moves and gestures.
I recommend, if you don't know it yet, to devour this album which is a worthy companion of failures and regrets.....for those who have them, of course.