Scott Walker’s final solo studio album “Bish Bosch” sees him integrate the experiments of outings such as “Tilt” and “The Drift” in a more mature and deliberately constructed effort; in other words, it’s a very appropriate farewell in that it presents the artist’s impulses and the themes he had been approaching throughout his career in a delicately arranged work that effectively feels like the logical conclusion of the ideas and obsessions that he pursued in all preceding efforts.
A sense of dread permeates the entire record, given that the quieter moments (or even the pauses) are imbued with a suspense that forebodes a sinister development to follow. A plethora of sound effects springs into the audio canvas like mysterious apparitions (lights, movements, phantoms) successively coming in and out of sight in forest shrouded in the thick darkness of the night. There’s an almost symphonic effect to how each of the many sounds, textures and percussive elements will come at the right moment and interact with each other, like in a haunted house theme park attraction where the press of each button will activate a very specific apparition or event. These auditory sights will be for the most part unexpected and play significantly with the power of silence and the suspense of expectation therein created; the flow of the music is not, however, “random” in the manner of many failed attempts at experimentalism but rather reveals its own logic, one that the listener might liken to that of films like “Mulholland Drive” or “Inland Empire”; like Lynch’s powerful and enigmatic works, Walker’s music borrows from familiar elements well established in pop culture consciousness only to distort them and rearrange in novel, often disturbing combinations that very effectively convey a sense of unease and the uncanny. The structures are accordingly unpredictable, but often play with contrast and the build-up of crescendos that once attaining their climax give way to disquieting calm.
Walker’s trademark vocals likewise maintain a heightened sense of drama and menace throughout the entire record, in a such a way that whenever the music quiets down to leave us alone with the vocalist, the anxiety remains or in some cases increases. There’s an admirable cohesion to the landscape carved by the music along the album’s 9 tracks that nonetheless mobilize many distinctive moods, from the intense and percussive opener “’See You Don’t Bump His Head’” to the long and curiously titled “SDSS1416+13B (Zercon, A Flagpole Sitter)” with its arsenal of ominous spoken word passages, industrial effects and mock orchestral flashes that wouldn’t be out of place in an avant-garde classical piece or an experimental film soundtrack by the likes of Toru Takemitsu. Instruments like electric guitars and drums also make an appearance but never in a conventional manner, being instead twisted in order to fit in with the surrounding dark choir; like the other sounds, their emissions are reduced to the fundamental aspect of pure texture and then used accordingly.
The level of intensity and quality of “Bish Bosch” easily elevates it beyond the scope of most musicians attempting to explore similar ideas; it’s a fascinating record on its own and an incredibly satisfying farewell from a musician with a decidedly unique position in contemporary music; like the aforementioned Lynch, who was allowed to unbridledly unleash the reservoirs of his “id” for the last season of “Twin Peaks” (which may also go down as his final major work), Walker’s album sees his wildest creative energies being discharged in the best way the most dedicated fans could hope for.
