Dr. Frank's What's-it

Some good lines from the new Robyn Hitchcock album

...I love you in real life, not just in this song that's coming out of me

you fall around me in a perfect harmony, so meant to be...

...I know I've seen you somewhere in eternity or paradise,
a flower growing in the ice...("One L")

...all the ghosts in love with you, they crane their sorry necks like a Viennese machine that's just discovered sex... ("Idonia")

Well, it's new-ish, anyway. As far as I can gather, Luxor is the semi-legendary recording, supposedly recorded in a single afternoon in 2002, that was given away at a London gig in celebration of RH's 50th birthday last year. I've been wrapped up in my own little world, and it escaped my attention that it had been released to the general public back in August. I didn't learn of it till I happened on it by accident whilst Christmas shopping. Of course I got it as a little present to myself. There is practically no information on the outside of the packaging, not even song titles. There's precious little info inside. The whole thing is a bit mysterious. It turns out to be a sparsely arranged, mostly acoustic solo album, like a more mature and more focused Eye. I've listened to it a few times now, and it is utterly beautiful, even as compared with all of his other utterly beautiful recordings.

I was going to try to write a little review of it, but when it comes down to it, I just don't think it would be worth much. It is possible to be such a big fan that you can't rely on your own critical faculties, and that's pretty much the situation for me with regard to RH. Even the albums which are generally regarded as artistic low points (say the Queen Elvis album or Groovy Decay) are cherished and gloated over after a fashion. It gets worse: I even, somewhat perversely, particularly prize those moments which don't work all that well, as valuable keys or hints to a deeper understanding of what makes the other stuff great. And anyway, Queen Elvis arguably contains some filler, but "Superman" alone makes it better than just about any other album by anyone else you could name. See what I mean? I'm an Appreciator, not a critic. I have faith, that I may understand; rather than the other way around.

Plus, I've learned not to jump the gun on that kind of criticism. And I learned it the hard way. I have to admit, I didn't much care for Respect or Moss Elixir when they first came out, only to realize after I got over myself a couple of years later how wrong I was. They're now two of my favorite favorites that I don't think I could live without. And, looking back, I count that time of estrangement as senseless, wasted years. Much better to register your devotion at the very beginning as a given, and spend the next couple of years trying understand it, rather than alienating yourself for the present, whilst sentencing yourself to standing there, at some future but inevitable date, like some indie-rock Fonzie saying "I was wr-wr-... I was wr-wr...", filled with regret. The enjoyment to pain ratio ends up much, much more satisfactory.

So I don't think I'm wrong when I say that Luxor is just about the most beautiful, brilliant thing I've heard; but I have to acknowledge that if I was wrong I'd have no way of knowing it. It is astonishing, even though I was bracing myself for astonishment. No one else on earth could manage, as RH somehow does in "Penelope's Angles," to make the line "I am not a yam, I am not a yam" moving and relatable, that's for sure. Leaving aside such conjuring feats, "You Remind me of You" is more or less traditional-minded in theme and structure, and among the loveliest love songs he has ever written, which is certainly saying something:

You remind me of you when I reach for myself
deep in the water below
you're the reflection and I am the self
self in a hurry with nowhere to go.

You remind me of me when I stand on the deck
feeling the wind in my hair
out on the ocean I'm only a speck
speck of existence with nobody there

You remind me of angels that come in the snow
melting like candles that diamonds blow
see all the water go, see all the water go by

You remind me of me when I reach for the hand
suddenly taken away
clutching you I could drown on dry land
I'm left with my fingers on a good day

You remind me of you when you're down in the hold
I'll have your babies if you'll have my cold

see all the water go, see all the water go by

See, I was only going to quote the first verse, but I found I couldn't stop there. And even typing it out got me all choked up. I don't know how it affects other, less deranged people in re: getting choked up. It's a perfect song, even though there's one quite clunky line (the one about fingers on a good day.) Is it possible to be perfect with a clunky line? It turns out that it is, strangely. I find that fascinating, because I'm usually extremely picky about such things. Kevin Army once said, when I forced him to listen to "The Arms of Love"-- another perfect, lovely RH love song-- that I'd never let anyone else "get away with" a line like "maybe tonight you're crying like a poor wounded dove." And he may have been right about that. But the song overwhelms me, for a variety of reasons, and a seeming cliche is in the end a small price to pay for a such a nice, real chunk of joy.

And it also fascinates me in a totally different way, as he certainly could have come up with something more convincing there, and this song is so obviously composed with great care. Why didn't he? Or maybe it's not a bad line and I'm just too dim to get why. That question, or more precisely the general issue, illustrated by this particular example, with the echo of the gorgeous melody almost driving out the sense of the question, is going to be hovering in my background for the foreseeable future, maybe forever.

Anyway, that and "Idonia" are two of my favorite tracks.

With the possible exception of all the other tracks.

Posted by Dr. Frank at December 16, 2003 07:48 PM | TrackBack