The story of Scott Walker is, on its face, not too different from that of many pop idols of the last fifty years. A handsome man with a remarkable baritone voice, Walker, first as a member of the Walker Brothers, and then on his own, made a huge splash in the UK with a series of orchestral, melodramatic albums in the mid-1960′s. Walker (an American from Ohio whose real name is Scott Engel; none of the Walker Brothers were actually brothers, or named Walker), released a series of eponymous albums of effusive melancholy, mixing his own self-penned songs drawn from literature, history and cinema with those of Belgian songwriter Jacques Brel, that were critical and commercial smashes in Europe. Beautiful anachronisms at a time when the stink of patchouli and faded denim was overtaking much of the music industry, Walker’s records bore the burden of mixing artistic statements with market gratification and, as inevitably happens, the sales suffered. When the remarkable ‘Scott 4‘ failed to chart, Walker’s career was considered over. He soldiered on for a few years, recording mediocre covers albums to keep himself in liquor, but, aside from the odd sign of life, Walker became a recluse, and was rarely seen or heard from for decades.
What does set Scott Walker apart from all the others, and what is the focus of this welcome and, by me at least, long-anticipated documentary is what happened next. As a Walker devotee for over fifteen years, even I was only ever vaguely aware of many of the details of his remarkable career. I had never even seen a recent picture of him, let alone heard him speak. Despite his career revitalizing comeback, with 1995′s striking and divisive ‘Tilt‘, Walker has chosen to remain in the shadows, so the extensive sit-down interviews with him as he recorded his latest, the impenetrable avant-classical album ‘The Drift‘, are to any Scott fan a treasure trove. Far from the brooding intellectual his work would indicate, Walker proves himself to be a genial and engaging man who understands that, as has been the case for much of his career, most people probably aren’t interested in what he’s selling. What is most impressive is that he doesn’t seem to mind.
Walker’s devoted following, mostly in the UK, has remained strong, as evidenced by the number of sit-down interviews which are interspersed throughout. David Bowie, Brian Eno, Jarvis Cocker, and members of Radiohead are all shown discussing, and occasionally unable to express beyond a look of awe, the influence that so much of Walker’s recorded output has left on them. While it’s understandable if most people in the U.S. have never heard any of Scott’s original solo albums, as they were virtually impossible to find unless on import, 30 Century Man offers a healthy sampling of some of Walker’s most inspired work, along with vintage footage of him performing on various British variety shows and on his own 1969 BBC show. It’s without exaggeration some of the loveliest music ever recorded, rich in lyrical detail and melodrama, with unmatched orchestral arrangements.
We’re also treated to footage of Walker preparing ‘The Drift’, which is fascinating not only for the opportunity to see an artist at work, but also for the chance to see a trained percussionist be instructed in the best way to punch a slab of meat. It’s all done with great humor, helping to put the lie to the worst clichés of whatever ‘avant garde’ may mean in today’s society. The most telling line of the film comes from Walker, himself, when he tells of an interview he had with a French magazine about his latest record.
“They aren’t songs,” they tell him. “You’re just on your own out there.”
Walker’s bemused reaction was, simply, “Again?”
Documentary/Biography/Music
Not Rated
DVD Release Date: 6/16/09