UNo Mas
1999
Robyn Hitchcock
Jewels For Sophia
(Warner Brothers)
by Jon Jolles
I remember being in New York City, for some reason which escapes me now, in 1997 and walking down the street and seeing a crowd of people around a storefront listening to someone on the guitar which I found vaguely familiar. Upon closer inspection I found it was Robyn Hitchcock, filming what I perceived was a music video. I stood and listened to him for a while, remembering how much I used to like him. I kind of lost touch with Mr. Hitchcock somewhere between 1988's Globe Of Frogs and 1989's Queen Elvis. I remember hearing Queen Elvis at some point and not thinking that much of it one way or another. But I stood there and listened to him play a couple of songs, and listened to him do his epic, surreal monologues that are as legendary as they are baffling and thinking, "I should check out what he’s been up to lately." But like many thoughts you have walking around Manhattan, it was fleeting, and I never followed up on it. Well that "video" turned out to be a concert film and accompanying CD produced by none other than Jonathan Demme (maybe he'll do for Hitchcock what he did for Talking Heads). 1998's appropriately titled Storefront Hitchcock with its live overview of Robyn's oeuvre was preceded by not one but two best-of packages; 1997's Uncorrected Personality Traits, covering '81-through-'85's output, and 1996's Greatest Hits (?!), which collected '88-through'93's "chart toppers" (sic). Apparently, at that point in the Hitchcock saga, there wasn't much to "check out" except repackaged and/or re-recorded versions of material I was already familiar with.
Well, now fegmaniacs everywhere can rejoice! Later this month will see the release of Jewels For Sophia, a terrific new album of relatively new material (one song, "No, I Don’t Remember Guildford", appeared in its earlier incarnation on Storefront...) from the always-interesting and -evocative Hitchcock. The record is a simple, understated, unfettered production, which suits the material just fine. It sounds so refreshingly straightforward you'd think you were hearing the demo for the record instead of the actual finished product.
The various band configurations, featuring at times Peter Buck, three quarters of the beloved Young Fresh Fellows, and Soft Boys mate Kimberley Rew, were never given much time to learn or rehearse the songs, which gives the recorded versions here a certain immediacy and excitement. The sparceness of the arrangements -- it often sounds like there's never more than 3 or 4 instruments on any one song -- gives the performances an intimacy as well. The record opens with "Mexican God" with its incredibly catchy "oooohh wop, shoo wah da da wop" vocal bit, its patented Hitchcock creepy and provocative lyric and that phrasing by Syd Barrett and John Lennon's love child on Dramamine that he does so well; "Moon in a cup, crushed garlic and babies/Sailors all stagnant and bloating and rough/The horror of you floats by my window/At least when I die your memory will too".
The whole record is full of his particular gem-like turns of phrase; it's funny and sad and scary all at once. While "Cheese Alarm" may be the world's first Pop song featuring a staggering array of dairy based-delicacies from around the globe, "Viva Sea-Tac" is a virtual travel guide of the Pacific Northwest (Sea-Tac = Seattle-Tacoma); "Viva viva viva viva Sea-Tac/They’ve got the best computers and coffee and smack ... May they reproduce until there's no room to go anywhere/Clustered under The Space Needle like walking eggs on and arms and legs". These bizarre excursions are followed by a pair of pretty love songs; "I Feel Beautiful" almost has a slight Tom Waits feel, mostly due to its delicate marimba while "You've Got A Sweet Mouth On You, Baby" is reminiscent of Nick Drake. "NASA Clapping" is a rocket-fueled rocker with some serious geetar noise action courtesy of Hitchcock and Rew; imagine the out-of-control solos that old Bob Stinson used to conjure up in the original 'Mats lineup. Other up-tempo numbers include "Sally Was A Legend", which could easily be the single, and "Elizabeth Jade", which could almost pass as an obscure Kingsmen party tune. The aforementioned "No, I Don't Remember Guildford" sounds like it could have been included on 1986's Element Of Light, one of my favorite Hitchcock records and hopelessly hard to find on disc (at least in my neck of the woods). Needless to say, the whole record is pretty great, but by all means, don't stop the disc before you hear one of its two hidden tracks, the hilarious "Gene Hackman". I don't want to give too much away; suffice it to say it will be appearing on many a comp. tape, I assure you. If you're like me and lost touch somewhere along the line with Hitchcock's unique musical vision, pick up Jewels For Sophia. In the song "Antwoman" he sings "Oh I dream of Antwoman/With her Audrey Hepburn feelers and her black and white stripes/I know my type and she's out there/I know my type and she's out there". Now that I've rediscovered Robyn Hitchcock, I’m thinking maybe he's my type. He's certainly out there.
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