Back in print for 1st time in years, Scott Walker’s starkly funereal Tilt is the first in a seminal trilogy of LPs which was completed with The Drift  and Bish Bosch . Upon its European release in 1995, Tilt, Walker’s 12th solo studio LP, was also his first release in eleven years, and found the arch avant-pop songwriter pursuing the mix of industrial, rock and classical in Climate Of Hunter  much farther down the rabbit hole, achieving a distinguished sound which can easily be mistaken as electronic, but is remarkably, entirely acoustic, orchestral.
Few artists work is harder to get a grasp on than Scott Walker. From beginnings as a teen idol, then as frontman of ’60s pop trio The Walker Brothers, thru the subsequent, change of direction with Climate Of Hunter, and his modern avant-garde masterpieces, Walker’s oeuvre is practically unparalleled in its diversity, which requires some effort of behalf of the listener to really join all the dots.
However, the one constant theme throughout Walker’s recordings is that baritone vocal, alternately booming, crooning and lamenting depending the song, and giving life to his lyrics in the manner of some ancient, spellbinding bard relaying tales from the brink. It’s a voice that has unmistakably lived, and evokes life in the richest colours.
Of course, life would be nothing without contrast, and that’s where Walker’s genius really comes into play on Tilt, as a lone, detached presence echoing against backdrops ranging from the grandiose, panoramic, operatic and cinematic, mostly thanks to strings by London Sinfonietta, to moments of utter, stark despair and bellicose militancy, often in the space of a single song.
If you’ve ever been intrigued by Walker’s indomitable body of work, including collaborations with Sunn 0))) and song-writing credits for Bat For Lashes, we thoroughly recommend immersing in Tilt and following your nose into the abyss.