An engaging, unique study of enigmatic pop star Scott Walker, charting his progress from the Walker Brothers to solo success, to post-modern purveyor of the recent Tilt.
Generally I'd far prefer this free, poetic, essayistic approach to Scott to another boring rock bio, but this is a mess. It could be faulted it for its repetition, its silliness and its bizarrely misplaced but incessant comparisons to Marc Almond, but the main problem is that Reed doesn't really listen, being far too busy slotting Scott into his obsessions (Lautreamont, Genet, Marc). So he misses the twists and sharp shifts and complexities of Scott's writing style, especially late on (assuming, eg, that Tilt is autobiographical, the least possible interesting interpretation; or, that it's about 'drugs'), never mind what he was doing with sound. But some moments of insight come out of the stream of consciousness (eg: yes, Scott surely was a Coil fan).
I hated this book so much. It's more a book about Mr Reed's plaintive pining for the (deliberately) elusive Mr Walker and i didnt learn anything I didnt already know. There are constant queries throughout this book about I" wonder where Scott is / what Scott is doing" from the author which made me want Scott to appear at the end like Jack Torrance... HERE'S SCOTT!!
Seriously though I am a huge fan of Scott Walker, particularly his brave and brilliant later work, and I feel like this was a hugely wasted opportunity.
I was driven batty by the repetitiveness of this book about a third of the way through (OK, we get it, you think Climate Of Hunter and Tilt are Walker's best albums!); I may have not even made it that far.