2. Scott Walker - The Drift (2006)

1. Cossacks Are
2. Clara
3. Jesse
4. Jolson and Jones
5. Cue
6. Hand Me Ups
7. Buzzers
8. Psoriatic
9. The Escape
10. A Lover Loves

Scott Walker's a funny old chap. To indulge in a little bit of back-story, he and a few more ex-pat Americans moved to UK in the 60s and started a fairly successful pop career as the Walker Brothers, after which Mr. Engels here (having adopted the surname Walker as his stage name) went solo, recording some fantastic chamber music before the critics turned nasty on him in the 70s. In 1979, the Walker Brothers reunited and recorded the album Nite Flights; a mixed bag on the whole but, most importantly (and relevantly) the four tracks which Scott Walker wrote and sung on the album were very forward-thinking and experimental for the time. This would signal what the rest of Walker's solo career would sound like... sort of. The Walker Brothers split up again soon after that album was released, with Scott Walker going solo again, but this time in a very different manner. For a start, his material took on a much darker edge, starting with his great 1984 album Climate Of the Hunter. Secondly, he became a recluse, sheltering himself from the media spotlight and only emerging every 11 years from then to release a solo album. Thirdly, these albums got darker and better as time went on. 1995's Tilt found Walker making his most profound, bleak, grim and at times even frightening album yet. On top of that, it was a brilliant album too.

And then comes 2006's the Drift. The kind of album this is is perfectly illustrated by the sleeve art above - unrelentingly dark and unsettling basically, not to mention his masterpiece. The album is a masterclass of atmosphere, with sonic pictures so vivid that listening to the album from end-to-end on a dark, sober night in through a pair of state-of-the-art headphones is a little like watching a horror movie. In keeping with the ethics of horror cinema, this album, with its many juxtapositions between quiet passages and sudden loud noises is designed to induce discomfort in the listener. Due to the very 21st century production, this effect is pulled off so well that for me it actually beats a lot of horror movie experiences.

Anyway, enough context, let's talk songs! Cossacks Are opens the box of frogs that is the Drift, with its pounding, industrial drumbeat, uncomfortably-skewed two-chord guitar and the quick bursts of orchestration and heavily-treated synth really sets up such a cold soundscape. Scott Walker's brilliant, rich and deep baritone vocal (a signature of his past releases), singing cryptic and ominous lyrics such as "with an arm across the torso - face on the nails" and "touching the shattered lives it unearths - a nocturne filled with glorious ideas - a chilling exploration - of erotic consumption" gives it all that much more shape.

If there's a signature for this album, it's that exact sentiment - bleak and unsettling soundscapes married with cryptic and dark lyrics. The epic, 13 minute in length Clara is an absolute monolith of a piece of music, the lyric of which concerns the last hours of Benito Mussolini's mistress Clara Petacci just before they were shot and hung. It all fits together so perfectly, providing us with the first truly creepy moment on the album, given the shifting of the balance of noise from quiet, in this case being Walker's voice accompanied only by strings and some very loose percussion, and loud, being a sudden burst of noise from those departments accompanied by a kind of foreboding urgency in the vocal. Half-way through, to play up the song's concept, the voice of French singer Vanessa Contenay-Quinones has a verse as Petracci which, despite its honey-like sweetness, sounds so damn creepy amidst the sonic picture. Also, you'll hear a weird percussive sound throughout this song which sounds kind of like someone punching a carcass. This would be because it is the sound of someone in the studio punching a carcass, to represent the Italian crowds stoning and kicking the corpses of Mussolini and Petracci after their deaths. Basically, this is a mag-fucking-nificent work of art if you'll excuse the potty-mouth. Listen to it while you're still around, for chrissakes.

Jesse keeps that same kind of unsettling torch burning. The verses consist of Walker alternating between a whisper and softly-sung vocalisation over another very dense and slow two-chord guitar riff and a low, simmering string arrangement which boils over with each "famine is a tall tower - a building left in the night - Jesse are you listening?" chorus, making for another damn creepy song. The following Jolson and Jones is set to an ever-so slightly faster pace with a very prominent metallic percussion figure and follows a slightly different pattern of movement to its predecessors in the tracklisting. While it maintains that overall slow-rolling pace, which alternates from bleakly minimalist to a louder tone, this song sees the first spine-tingling moment on the album with its burst of noise about 2 and a half minutes in. Another epic piece of work this.

The epic-length Cue is another monolithic piece like Clara before, which follows a very cryptic and gloomy concept, this one concerning what I can only assume is some sort of pandemic. These lyrics are, again, brilliance on a stick when pitted alongside the fragile and quiet arrangement, with such macabre delights as "strain after strain after strain after strain - immunity - immunity - through the dominant wards and nurseries - a flugleman moves - through the lung-smeared slides and corridors - a flugleman moves". Plus, seeing as I like to listen to albums as I review them off the cuff like this, there's a moment about halfway through this which made me practically jump out of my skin listening to it just now.

Hand Me Ups is, as an entire song, one of these sudden bursts of noise over that signature industrial backdrop provided by both the percussion string arrangements, and is another moment that comes as a bit of a shock here. Hot on its heels in Buzzers, which opens up after an excerpt from a radio broadcast and by now, from the bleak and unusual rhythm which eases the music along, you're almost expecting something to surprise you, and this is another way in which this album functions like a good horror movie - when you expect a fright, it doesn't come, and that sense of nervousness is what keeps your attention. Although the urgency in the music does increase in places, this song is comparably a moment of light relief alongside its bedfellows. Psoriatic builds on that foreboding sense on anticipation of what lies ahead somewhat, as its louder moments in their suddenness do have that uncomfortable sensation going in tandem with them.

But it's nothing compared to what comes next. The Escape is, among the underground of music-listeners, one of the most notorious songs of all-time. It's one of the best uses of atmosphere in a composition that I can think of - every aspect of it makes it that much more than just another song. The deceptively gentle and soothing vocal delivery, the sparse and creeping musical backing, the lyrics that open with "the car in front follows the long way around - prey moves - predator moves - foreshortened angels hunting me down" - it just builds and builds in its own not-immediately-obvious way towards one hell of a climax. The moment that comes after "look into its eyes - it will look into your eyes" towards the end of the track is certainly the biggest fright a piece of music has ever given me (and don't get me wrong - I eat nails for breakfast, laugh in the face of fear and drop ice-cubes down the vest of trepidation). Coming after this, A Lover Loves is just about the strangest way you could wish to wrap up an album such as this, being easily the most conventional song on the album, seeing as it's a kind of dark mutant of folk-rock which uses a repetitive guitar figure. It'd seem weird even by this album's standards, but it seems so perfect at the same time. It's a darkly sweet end to a horror show of an album.

And there you have it. I couldn't put my finger on what kind of genre this album is if you paid me to - I guess there elements of classical, chamber music, folk and industrial in there, but giving it labels is pointless and doesn't even begin to explain the music. Hell, my review probably doesn't either. I'd say 'this album will change your life, get it now, it's a form of musical enlightenment, perfection, yadda yadda yadda' but, the truth is, however much hype I give this album, it'll never live up to it in your eyes. I'll leave you with these words though - this album is an absolutely unforgettable musical experience, and despite the fact I've used the word original so much in this thread, I really can't think of another album that's had the kind of effect on me that this one has. A blissfully perfect album.