 |
|
Scott Walker, "Bish Bosch"
Atrocities, dictators and bodily functions, these are a few of Scott Walker’s favorite things. Throughout the dense lyrical jungle of Bish Bosch are examples of all these subjects amid dozens of other topics, all processed through Walker’s intense imagination. At times bewildering, amusing and disturbing, this is a magnificent album that continues from the same point where The Drift left off.
It is difficult to say exactly where I stand with it. I love it but there is a multitude of readings into the title alone (a combination of slang, Heironymous Bosch and a mythical female giant artist are implied on the album’s official site). I can only imagine that there will be years of analysis left in Walker’s words here. This is songwriting for an age of information overload as the thickets of puns, allusions and obscure facts bring to mind James Joyce’s work with Finnegans Wake. Walker moves through ideas like I would idly pass the time on Wikipedia, clicking the links until the dawning realization that I have gone so far without a breadcrumb trail to lead me back.
All the while, Walker is accompanied by many of his usual partners in crime along with a huge number of ancillary musicians, some of whom might only have seconds of play time on Bish Bosch. Yet, this is not the marathon run of kitchen sink instrumentation that that was present on The Drift. Here, the instrumentation is much more conventional but the playing and moods that are pulled out of the string section or guitar player are a step out of the ordinary. Going from weird concrète electronics to a vivacious carnival-style percussion, the players do an excellent job of accompanying such an uncompromising musical vision. Walker’s line on "Dimple" of "If you’re listening to this, you must have survived" could easily be directed to a participant in one of his recording sessions.
While the music is incredible in its own right, there is no denying that it is subservient to the words. Walker’s lyrics act like cues for sounds to be included in the music and Bish Bosch is as indebted to radio theater as it is to any of the other myriad of sources and inspirations that Walker has drawn on. Uses of the word "chisellers," "wobble," and "A room full of mice," are all accompanied by the appropriate sound effect; in particular, the latter has what sounds like a snare drum put into one of those little exercise wheels found in pet stores. The strong link between the words and the music means that traditional melody takes second stage to psychological and semantic impact. These songs are written in order to get deep inside each listener, not by a catchy hook but by possession.
There is a particularly scatological leaning to the words and sounds utilized; the oddness of Walker’s Donald Duck impression on The Drift is totally eclipsed by the line "The sphincter’s tooting our tune," accompanied by a flatulent synthesizer on "Corps de Blah," (the title possibly inspired by the phrase "corps de ballet," as Walker started work on this album while working on music for a ballet company). Meanwhile, references to a "wormy anus" and "If shit were music… you’d be a brass band" continue the theme in simultaneously cutting and hilarious ways.
These indelicate references and the countless mentions of mental illness and inhumane acts ("What kind of an unnatural son would do that to his own mother!?!") make the Heironymous Bosch connection in the album’s title most apparent during these early listening sessions. The intricate and varied horrors spill out of the speakers like one of Bosch’s compositions falls out of the canvas; just when I feel I have reached the depths of Walker’s unsettling (and frequently hilarious) imagery, he pushes the boundaries even further. "I’ve severed my reeking gonads and fed them to your shrunken face" is not the sort of lines expected from a 69-year-old former '60s icon, even one who has previously sang about punching a donkey in the streets of Galway. This line, alone with other remarks about genital mutilation or eunuchs, complete Walker’s idea of a Bitch (Bish) version of Bosch.
It remains difficult to discern what else is lurking beneath the surface of Bish Bosch at such an early time. Knowing how much I have discovered from (and still discover of) Walker’s previous albums over time, I am looking forward to dissecting Bish Bosch for years.
samples:
 
