SF Weekly
August 11, 1999
Robyn Hitchcock
Jewels For Sophia
(Warner Bros.)
by Denise Sullivan
If you subscribe to the theory that "Rock musician" is one of the few professions at which one improves with age, you'll be disappointed to learn it's still too early to pass judgment on singer-songwriter Robyn Hitchcock. Though he's now officially one of the geezers he sang about on The Soft Boys' 1979 anthem "Rock 'n' Roll Toilet", he's still pleasantly unpredictable. 1996's Moss Elixir, his 15th solo recording (not including various live and odd sides, including a re-enactment of Bob Dylan's 1966 Royal Albert Hall gig) was a heart-rendered, Folk-y high; 1997's Jonathan Demme-directed concert picture Storefront Hitchcock didn't help him reach a wider audience, though he's forever captured on celluloid in the "twilight of his life" (his words). Now Jewels For Sophia, with its highs among his highest and its lows the absolute pits, will ensure that once again Hitchcock will not be cashing his lotto ticket -- which might just be another way of saying he'd be the superstar we all believe he is, if only he'd quit messing around.
Ironically, the best songs have the highest potential for failure: The Dylan-ology of "You've Got a Sweet Mouth on You, Baby" and the Bunuel-isms of "Mexican God", could be weighty, scary monsters, but they emerge gloriously Spartan. The understated "I Feel Beautiful", featuring Grant-Lee Phillips on harmony vocals, is an unusual celeb-guest surprise. The traditional content of "Dark Princess" doesn't match the modern Pop form at all, and the result is incredibly powerful -- the blips and bleeps are paired with a shopworn goddess-in-every-woman theme and the track outdoes every other folky's efforts to "go Techno" these last couple of years. Conversely, when the sounds echo the emotion, as on the bittersweet reminiscence "No, I Don't Remember Guildford" (a Storefront song), it's a jaw-droppingly good combo too. The novelty bonus track "Gene Hackman" could've easily been boosted into the main set.
Credit the successes to producers Jon Brion and Pat Collier, the most reliable common denominators here, along with Tim Keegan, Hitchcock's touring sideman. The bad news: contemporary psychobabble tells us that when one reveals too much of himself or excels (as Hitchcock did on Moss Elixir and half of this album) one must make a (slight) return to one's former, less-perfect self. Hence, the appearance of R.E.M.'s Peter Buck (whom Hitchcock ditched after too many late-'80s/early-'90s collaborations) and three-quarters of the Young Fresh Fellows results in the weak rave-up "Elizabeth Jane" and "Viva Sea-Tac" -- a Rock song about (yawn) Rock, recorded in Alt-Rock ghetto Seattle -- which are among the CD's substandard tracks. On the other hand, reuniting with Soft Boy Kimberly Rew for the chiming "Sally Was a Legend" makes a good case for a serial ne'er-do-well's compulsion to return to the scene of former glories and misdemeanors. There's just no calling how this career's going to play out.
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