Scott 2

Like eating an entire jar of icing. It’s just too indulgent with the undercurrent or rot in the lyrics.

#316 Heard Before? Heck yes. Notes: - I first heard Scott Walker in 2006, when The Drift was released. it was my album of the year, and remains a favorite. - i was vaguely aware that he had a career before becoming a painful provocateur, but for some reason was fine just enjoying Tilt, Bish Bosch and Soused. - but then i finally worked my way backwards (skipping over the lame 70s records) and Scott fully became my favorite male vocalist ever. - this is probably the best of the four self-titled albums, and "Jackie" is my karaoke go-to. - I've mentioned this often, but cabaret as a genre is criminally underrepresented and underappreciated in anglophone music. Verdict: Too much is just enough. Over the top is the only place to be. Listen Again? Most assuredly.

Good Lord, what an album. I knew Scott Walker had an extraordinary voice, but I don't think I was quite prepared for the sheer scale of the artistic intelligence behind it. Twelve songs of extraordinary daring, invention and consequence, delivered with an assurance that borders on the supernatural. By the time the closing notes had faded, there was only one sensible response: put the whole bloody thing on again. Let's start with that voice. Walker possesses an enormous baritone, a spectacularly wide vibrato and seemingly inexhaustible breath control. Yet what makes him remarkable isn't simply the physical equipment. It's his understanding of what to do with it. His vibrato is gloriously extravagant without becoming mannered, his phrasing is extraordinarily precise, and he can sustain both force and duration without sacrificing expression. He can also exercise restraint, although restraint in Scott Walker's case is necessarily a relative concept. The opening *Jackie* is an absurd torrent of thought, a galloping orchestral assault that demands almost athletic vocal precision. You can occasionally hear Walker clipping the end of a note to snatch enough breath for the next onslaught. It's a fascinating reminder that even this apparently superhuman instrument has physical limitations. And yet he lands the song with extraordinary authority. Jacques Brel is difficult material for any singer, demanding not merely vocal ability but theatrical nerve and an absolute willingness to inhabit the grotesque. Walker has both in abundance. Then *Best of Both Worlds* arrives, and everything changes. Suddenly we're swimming in the most sumptuous orchestral romanticism imaginable. The voice that was fighting its way through Brel's verbal gymnastics now seems to float effortlessly above the arrangement. It's an early demonstration of the album's astonishing range, and of Walker's ability to adapt his technique without ever surrendering his identity. That's something I particularly admire about him as an interpreter. He tackles Brel, Tim Hardin, Henry Mancini and Bacharach without becoming a chameleon. He doesn't imitate their established interpreters or attempt to disguise his own personality. Instead, he understands what makes each composition work and finds a way of making it unmistakably his. It's a quality that puts me in mind of Marc Almond, whose early attempts to tackle Walker's repertoire were gloriously courageous and often technically precarious. His version of *Big Louise* on Marc and the Mambas' *Untitled* is a particularly fascinating example: an artist whose ambition initially exceeded his vocal equipment, but whose commitment was absolute. Almond eventually became an extraordinary interpreter in his own right, not by acquiring Scott Walker's voice but by discovering how to bring his own identity to difficult material. There's something instructive in that distinction. The third track, Tim Hardin's *Black Sheep Boy*, introduces another change of gear. Its subject matter, involving addiction, estrangement and the painful relationship between an individual and his family, is treated with remarkable gentleness. You might scarcely recognise the gravity of the material from the musical presentation alone. Walker allows the sadness to emerge rather than insisting upon it. Hardin's connection with South Eugene High School also gave me a pleasing little personal geographical association. But what truly elevates *Scott 2* is the discovery that Walker's own compositions can stand shoulder to shoulder with those of the formidable songwriters he interprets. *The Amorous Humphrey Plugg* is an extraordinary piece of writing. Its suburban protagonist dreams of escaping domestic respectability through sexual adventure, transforming his private frustrations into an extravagant romantic mythology. The song is simultaneously ridiculous, erotic, funny and genuinely moving. There's a passage in which Humphrey imagines his death through an excess of kisses and pleasure, with poets subsequently commemorating his glorious departure. It's a wonderful collision of the sacred and the profane, and Walker gives this ordinary man's fantasies all the orchestral grandeur they possess in his imagination. It reminded me of Soft Cell's *Frustration*, another exploration of suburban sexual suffocation, although the musical treatments could hardly be more different. Both recognise that beneath apparently respectable domestic lives there may be entire worlds of fantasy, resentment and frustrated desire. And then comes *Next*, another Brel adaptation, which approaches sexuality from almost the opposite direction. Where Humphrey imagines sexual experience as liberation and transcendence, Brel's young soldier encounters it as institutionalised humiliation. The military brothel, the queues, the compulsory performance and the mechanical succession of bodies turn what should be intimate into something deeply alienating. It's an extraordinary psychosexual lyric, suggesting how a single degrading experience might contaminate someone's subsequent relationship with intimacy. Walker sings it as though he were born to do so. Not a trace of embarrassment, and no attempt to soften the material. The contrast between these consecutive songs is startling, and entirely purposeful. By the end of side one, with Walker's own *The Girls from the Streets*, something had become increasingly apparent. These are songs of consequence. Their characters have desires, histories, disappointments and contradictions. Even when the subject matter is comic or outrageous, the songs take their humanity seriously. And the writing! Walker has clearly absorbed the traditions of French chanson at a level far deeper than the decision to record Brel's songs. It's there in the syntax, the unusually extended lyrical phrases, the willingness to delay a rhyme until a thought has fully developed, and the use of assonance, consonance and imperfect or dissonant rhyme. His lyrics frequently read almost like prose. Rather than fitting words into regular, symmetrical pop constructions, he allows the musical phrase to accommodate the sentence. Thoughts develop into other thoughts. Images accumulate. Rhymes appear without necessarily announcing themselves as the governing principle of the verse. It's not an abandonment of formal discipline, but the application of a more sophisticated and less conspicuous discipline. Walker sometimes seems to be composing in paragraphs rather than verses. This prompted an unexpected personal digression during my listening. My mother's maiden name was Hallam, and my father, delighted finally to have a son, insisted that Douglas should be my middle name. My mother chose Alan partly because she liked its musical resemblance to Hallam. She understood the phonetic relationship instinctively, without needing the technical vocabulary of assonance and imperfect rhyme. Music and a parental turf war, both embedded in my name. It's an amusing little example of how words can belong together musically without rhyming conventionally. Back to the album, and the decision to close side one and open side two with Walker's own compositions is a considerable statement. For an artist establishing himself as both interpreter and songwriter, it's a conspicuous assertion of confidence. Side two begins with *Plastic Palace People*, and suddenly the compositional ambition becomes positively breathtaking. This is six minutes of hallucinogenic, multi-sectional orchestral invention. The song seems to move through several distinct musical scenes, connected less by conventional pop structure than by an underlying imaginative logic. I was reminded immediately of *Some Velvet Morning* and Jimmy Webb's *MacArthur Park*, those extraordinary late-sixties compositions in which musical forms seem to expand beyond the established boundaries of the popular song. There's something almost cinematic about the way Walker changes the musical scenery. The orchestration can become enormous, then suddenly create a sense of isolation or uncertainty. A particularly economical use of tape echo produces a profoundly unsettling effect, almost like an auditory hallucination. It's an astonishing contrast: the immense resources of the orchestra alongside a relatively simple studio manipulation that makes the whole environment feel unstable. I've previously heard Walker's much later *The Drift*, a record as demanding and confrontational as some of the most challenging industrial music. Hearing *Plastic Palace People* now, it's possible to recognise the seeds of that experimental imagination almost four decades earlier. But it would be a mistake to judge this work merely as a precursor to something more radical. Its achievement in 1968 is already extraordinary. And what a year 1968 was for ambitious popular composition. *MacArthur Park*, *Some Velvet Morning*, the continuing influence of *A Day in the Life*: for a brief period, the pop song and the symphonic poem appeared to be on remarkably friendly terms. Composers were discovering that a song could contain several musical environments, contrasting dramatic movements and an almost cinematic sense of scale. I found myself briefly wishing I'd been born in 1952 or 1953, old enough to experience this extraordinary development as a teenager rather than inheriting it retrospectively. Although I wouldn't exchange being thirteen in 1977 for anything. Every generation deserves its own musical revolution. After the extraordinary intensity of *Plastic Palace People*, *Wait Until Dark* arrives with a magnificent cinematic introduction and a comparatively conventional romantic song. It's less consequential than much of the surrounding material, but the sequencing needs it. Another composition of equivalent intensity might have become exhausting. Sometimes a song's importance lies not in its individual ambition but in the breathing space it creates within an album. The third Brel adaptation, *The Girls and the Dogs*, restores the mischief. It's wonderfully playful, a reminder that adult songwriting needn't be solemn to have something perceptive to say about human behaviour. Brel's humour can be every bit as observant as his darker psychological dramas, and Walker understands how to deliver it without turning the performance into a novelty. Then Bacharach and David's *The Windows of the World* presents another fascinating challenge. Bacharach's melody is unusually discursive, although on reflection it belongs to the same conversational tradition as *Alfie*, *Walk On By* and *(They Long to Be) Close to You*. The melody seems to follow the unfolding thought rather than hurry towards an emphatic resolution. And how perfectly it suits Walker's remarkable command of musical time. Where *Jackie* is an absurd torrent of thought, *The Windows of the World* breathes. Walker's vocal control allows those long melodic sentences to unfold naturally, sustaining the emotional meaning without making the technical achievement conspicuous. The penultimate *The Bridge* may be the most extraordinarily grown-up composition on the record. It considers memory, relationships, emotional inadequacy and regret with a sophistication that seems remarkable coming from a songwriter still in his mid-twenties. The language is almost literary prose, full of connected observations and imperfect rhymes, without abandoning the musicality that makes it work as a song. It understands something important about adulthood: that memory can expose the inadequacy of our younger selves, and that we may recognise another person's suffering only when it's too late to respond properly. Walker doesn't reduce these observations to a moral lesson or sentimental confession. He lets their accumulated weight do the work. And then, after all that complexity, *Come Next Spring* closes the album with remarkable simplicity. It's an uncomplicated end to a complicated record. Almost a closing door. There's no attempt to match the emotional weight of *The Bridge*, no grand compositional climax, no final demonstration of literary sophistication. Instead, we're allowed to concentrate once more on the sheer beauty of Scott Walker's voice. That seems wonderfully appropriate. The album begins by demonstrating what this extraordinary singer can do and ends by reminding us how beautiful his instrument is. One of the most striking things about *Scott 2* is the relationship between extravagance and restraint. Walker can be positively operatic, yet rarely seems merely mannered. His orchestrations can be enormous without overwhelming the songs. His lyrics can be challenging without becoming wilfully obscure. His subject matter can be grotesque, erotic or psychologically disturbing while retaining compassion for the people whose lives he's examining. I was reminded at various points of Serge Gainsbourg, another songwriter willing to bring uncomfortable, disreputable and deeply adult subject matter into popular music. But where Gainsbourg often uses irony and provocation to establish distance from his characters, Walker seems more inclined towards complete dramatic identification. Even his most absurd creations are given the dignity of being taken seriously. And that's ultimately what makes this record so extraordinary. It isn't just a magnificent singer performing a remarkable selection of songs. It's an artist demonstrating that popular music can accommodate the full range of human experience: desire, shame, tenderness, humiliation, humour, disappointment, fantasy and regret. There are no arbitrary boundaries between the literary and the popular, the ridiculous and the profound, the beautiful and the unsettling. Everything belongs, provided the artist has the imagination and ability to make it work. And this reached number one in Britain in 1968. Imagine that. An album containing *Next*, *Plastic Palace People* and *The Bridge* at the top of the charts. It's an extraordinary reminder of how rapidly the possibilities of popular music had expanded during the preceding few years. I finished the album feeling that I'd encountered something genuinely magnificent. Not simply a record to admire for its technical achievements or historical importance, but one whose songs I wanted immediately to experience again. So that's precisely what I did. Straight back to the beginning while I started work. Five stars would hardly do it justice, but five stars it is. This is the real bloody thing.

painful to listen to Would I listen again: i can't even finish it Deserves to be on this list: no 1.0

I'm kind of puzzled by this album. He's got a good voice, but it's like a 'guy you hired in 1987 to be your wedding singer that is actually talented but, like, local medium sized midwestern town talented and for some reason thinks he can be Frank Sinatra' kind of good voice. He's not really a crooner. He does this weird vibrato thing, especially on low notes, that is really distracting. It's like he heard Sinatra do it a couple of times and was like 'ok that's how I'm supposed to sing' and based his whole approach on that. It's not a bad album but not one I would listen to again. I'm actually a little disappointed, I thought I liked Scott Walker better than this but perhaps this isn't the most representative record to judge him. 2.5/5

First though, best thought I guess… What is this borderline racist Man of La Mancha bullshit? Another comment just said 1969 edgelord and that feels pretty accurate

I don’t really like the crooner sound. Reminds me of the sleazy parts of Vegas.

Am I glad I listened to this, yes. Do I think everybody needs to hear this before they die, not a chance. This was quite an enjoyable listen for the most part. I really liked the first few songs which started off the album on a good note, but it started going downhill after that. This album would have been better as an instrumental I think, because what the hell is Scott Walker singing about, some of these lyrics are terrible and his excessive vibrato is driving me up the wall. The music behind the annoying singing is really great, it nearly feels nostalgic but not quite, don’t know what that’s about. I really do love it though, some would call it elevator music but I think I just like that sort of thing. I think the best song is probably Black Sheep Boy. It’s such a nice song, if it happened to come on at some point I wouldn’t turn it off, I would leave it on and enjoy it. That goes for a good few of the other songs too. The only part that I can’t get behind is Scott himself, his singing just really bothers me.

Interesting. Content didn’t match the sound. I was fairly bored throughout.

I don't have any interest in crooners. I don't even like Sinatra's music, so why would I like sleazy Temu.com Sinatra?

Seriously??? The worst.

Makes me appreciate Neil Diamond.

Not for me

What a weird album this is. Started with a spaghetti western theme song, a couple track later it's kind of a folk song, then it turns into a pretty standard crooner album. Remember the Mike Flowers Pops... the folks that did that lounge-ish "Wonderwall" cover? This felt like the direct inspiration for that project. This album? 2 songs were interesting, but I didn't really like them. This was a total whiff.

Hmmm would have guessed this was made about half a century earlier than it was, and that's maybe definitely not a good thing

So awful…

Not for me

Some Latin/Western flavour, with Phil Spector style backing. Some has a Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid flavour (Burt Bacharach). Some fairly edgy lyrics, belted out in melodramatic baritone. I am kind of a sucker for this stuff - but can equally see why it would totally turn someone off who doesn't have the same penchant for big, brassy 60s art pop.

Not sure wtf I just listened to here. Ok, Phil Spector Wall of Sound, just sounds better with more talented vocalists and less mysogyny vibed lyrics. Kinda hated it.

I love Scott 3 (not on this list, but would give a 5), and like Scott 4 a bit. Bisch Bosch is a super fun experimental album as well. Scott 2 you get his great trademark voice, but the songs don't hit nearly as hard and sound like he's doing a number of covers but not making them his own. Still really enjoy but really a step towards better releases. 3.4/5 -> 3/5

Голос хороший, но на этом всё

Sure this would be for someone but I just found it weird

I really liked this, maybe I just like chanson

Some big vocals and very pleasant. Will I seek it out again? No I will not.

fine. bit disappointing, thought would be better.

Meh

langweilig

The typical big pop sound from the late 60’s. Nothing special, bit not bad either

This just felt overblown, pompous and way more dramatic and important then it actually was.

This was just silly. What on earth is he on about?

For the the year this was released i think its an ode to the oldies. Didnt think its all that but its a chill album.

Baroque pop isn't quite to my taste, but the lyrics on several of these painted some vivid imagery that made it pretty interesting to listen to.

Very 60s sound, nothing remarkable

Ok

scott walker is dope. the walker brothers are dope. “jackie” is dope. i think i like scott 3 the most of the scotts tho. didn’t make the cut here apparently. love his voice.

I don’t know enough about the late 60s music scene to know if this was considered weird at the time, but given Scott Walker’s wholesale departure into extremely peculiar music in his later career it’s hard not to hear a touch of the bizarre through this, despite being ostensibly quite schmaltzy pop. Absurdist vaudeville crooning? Haunted baroque pop? Anyway I love it, but it’s definitely not something I can stomach all the time!

Quite good and mysterious Some I don't like though Great singing 3

5/10… chamber pop / *1968

Sounded quiet and nice

Was not a big fan of this one. The music style was not for me and neither were the slurs. I understand it’s a different time but…

Tää oli sellanen albumi, joka alko vahvasti, kunnes tajusin, että tää on samaa biisiä koko levy. Isoin fiilis oli, että tää oli työmiehen Frank Sinatra. Moni biisi olis ollu paljon parempi ilman lyriikoita tai laulua ylipäätään.

Tää oli ihan ok! Ei vihaa. Ei erityistä lämpöäkään. Hauskaa. Pitää lukea taustoja ja muodostaa mielipide.

Tuli ihan puskista miten paljon tykkäsin tästä levystä! Tosi hieno orkestraatiota, hauskan veikeitä biisejä ja muutenkin mukava meininki levyn läpi. En jälleen kerran keskittyny kauheena lyriikkaan, mut esim. The Girls and the Dogs hyppäs esiin hieman muita erikoisempana tarinana :DD overall kuitenkin tykkäsin kovasti!

"Authentic queers and phony virgins" - avausraitana räväkkä käännöshitti. Aika suoraviivainen versiointi Jacques Brelin alkuperäisestä ranskankielisestä levytyksestä, mut tykkäsin vähän enemmän Scottin sovituksesta. Ylipäänsä levyllä upeat orkesterisovitukset ja herkullisen mahtipontista musikaalifiilistä. Pidin. Next!

Äh, tää oli jotenkin liian teatraalinen mun makuun ja liikaa kaikkea, vaikka lienee musiikillisesti aivan tasokasta. Aivan hirmu häiritsevä toi Plastic Palace Peoplen kilikello-efekti, olin just ulkosalla kävelemässä ja varma, että kohta vihainen pyöräilijä kiilaa mut ojaan.

What is he talking about. Why did he say that in “Next” Joking aside, I like the sounds of instruments, and his voice isn't the worst, but it’s also not the greatest I’ve heard. Another dude singing about sleeping with women I’m noticing. He’s a bit annoying, but there’s something slightly comforting about his music. I liked “Wait Until Dark” Alright so, originally this was a 2/5, for that line in “Next”, and then it was brought up to a 3/5, but then it was brought back down with “The Girls and The Dogs”. This dude had to have had a terrible breakup, god damn.

This is very British (derogatory)

This is halfway between pop music and broadway. I’m sure this appeals to a very specific British audience of a very short age range but I cannot fathom what they feel from it. It’s over performed, if you can say such a thing, and it’s over the top without being fun or crazy. He’s got a good voice anyway.

ладно мужик поет будто хочет трахнуть синатру, про некст, ну нормально поет, очень помпезно, я сначала не понял, потом чуть понял, пойдет (присутствуют гейские ковбойски мотивы)

Having only about 80 albums left until I finish, it's really hard for me to care that much about ones like this that really didn't stand out at all. This is the kind of album where if I got it much earlier on, I would probably have given it a 4/5 just on pure enjoyment. But I've heard it all man, and there are so many albums out there that sound just like this one. It's perfectly fine, on enjoyment alone I don't like this any less than I would have a couple of years ago, but I'm just so numb to this kind of music that I can't help but criticise it for being so unmemorable, even if it is still a good album other than that.

Hard to know how to rate this one. It seems like Walker had a wild and varied musical career, and I'd like to know how this album fits into his overall arc. Will I do a deep dive into his output? Mayyyyyyybe, but for now I have to evaluate this album on its own. Jacques Brel, some Sinatra, some strings, some 1968-edgelord talk in a pleasant baritone. Weird, but I like it.

A raunchy Tom Jones, crooning the bawdy ballads

Feels so grandiose. I love the big band sound and classic vocals.

Kinda like demented show tunes. Transgressive for the time period. Doesn't necessarily hold up.

intresting

the voice and music are great but the lyrics are batshit insane

My life is like a movie

Weird and cheesy. He has a nice voice, but the theatrics are a bit over-the-top for me.

Yeah, no. Jacques Brel covers are a red flag.

Počinje Jackie. Kontam da li je moguće da sam nekad negdje čula ovu pjesmu. Kad znam verziju Secret Chiefs 3. Nisam je čula godinama. Dobar podsjetnik. Veoma zabavna i energična pjesma, definitivno vrhunac albuma i u ovoj verziji. Inače zvuči kao da bi volio biti operni pjevač ili raditi filmske soundtracke ali nije tog kapaciteta pa je sebi našao alternativu. Alternativa dobija tri zvjezdice od mene, isključivo zbog Jackieeee.

The soviet band Kino but american

Really the thing of note here is Scott's voice like always, it's not the strongest collection of songs unlike the two records that came to follow this one, "Jackie" notwithstanding.

"Scott 2: The Return of Stiff". This album got old fast. Scott Walker is just another crooner who didn't make it as a solo act.

This is a profoundly weird album. The songs sound like a mix between lounge act and musical theater at times, the singer occasionally sounds like Neil Diamond, or maybe a cheesier, lamer older brother. The lyrics swing can at times sound like Weird Al, other times like a corny parody on Youtube. Overall, I didn't hate it...but I don't really like it either. It's fascinating and horrifying. I can't tell if the whole album is parodying something, or if this whole thing was sincere and to be taken at face value.

Musically, I quite enjoy the sweeping orchestral score but I don't like his proto-Richard Cheese voice! It find it bereft of emotion; he's performing these songs in every sense of the word! It's a shame as otherwise i'd have been on board with this

Not what I expected, old school crooning

This was a weird one! I wanted to enjoy it but some of the songs were definitely questionable.

If you've already had a few drinks and couldn't care less about listening to a really good impressionist sing a grand opera... in an empty hall. Spins: 1 Playlist Additions - Jackie - Black Sheep Boy

Oula la voix est tres unique. Tres distincte. Il articule vraiment bien. J'aime bien l'orchestre de la 2e chanson : best of both worlds. J'ai l'impression qu'il faut ecouter cette chanson dans un champs de blé. Bon en general c'est ok. Ca ne me touche pas particulierement. J'ai l'impression que c'est une selection des meilleures albums faite par 50 hommes blancs. Donc bon, je n'arrive pas a relate. Tres theatral. Ca fait tres comedie musical. Bon conclusion : j'aime pas trop. Comme le dit si bien le titre d'une de ces chansons : Next .

Je vais péter mon crâne c'est des reprises de Jacques Brel. C'est littéralement le même air et les paroles traduites en anglais. (pour 3 chansons). Donc en gros ça vaut 30% de Jacques Brel. Jacque Brel : 5/5 Scott 2/5. Après avoir fait ma recherche bibliographique je découvre que l'Jacquo aimait bien les reprises de Scott. Je remonte ma note. Scott 3/5. En plus ses compositions perso sont vraiment agréables et orginales. Crois en toi Scottie, t'iras loin ! Arrête de copier Jacques.

weird and bad but also weirdly good

nice voice!

I wanted to enjoy this. Truly. For, the instrumental arrangements are something I would typically enjoy. Walker hits his notes, but the problem is that the vocal melody feels completely disconnected from the instrumentals resulting in songs that feel disjointed. The lyrics range from weak to eye-rolling bad. Any Tom Jones, Matt Munro, or Neil Diamond album is better than this stuff. This whole schtick sounds like a terrible Saturday Night Live comedy skit.

No doubt it's a product of it's time, it sounded very dated listening to it today. I'll give it some credit as I don't think there has been another album on this list that sounds quite like this. It wasn't bad by any means. I was reading the wikipedia page about this album and it mentioned a Neil Hannon (The Divine Comedy) reference, and it suddenly dawned on me that he had basically copied this bloke's complete act. I did make it all the way through so it gets 2 stars!

Jackie's got great lyrics (I did not see "stupid-ass way" coming from a 1968 muzak album). 2.5.

The opening song "Jackie" is triumphant, glorious, illogical bliss. I want to ride across Spain on horseback with this man. "The Amorous Humphrey Plugg" deserves to have its own TV show. The other songs didn't quite live up to the glory of the first few. But I would still like to see a recut version of The Princess Bride with this album as the soundtrack.

75

Some interesting orchestration, but otherwise I struggled to find anything to latch on to. Didn't hate it, just didn't connect with it at all.

The first track ("Jackie") kicked in and I thought this might actually be quite a fun album. The energy was really infectious and I enjoyed the orchestral sound. Unfortunately the album took a pretty major downturn after that. The vocals are consistently good but not really my thing, there's something about Scott's voice that grates with me. I didn't particularly like the musical theatre sound, at least not when it's one voice with zero variation throughout, and although the instrumental backing was good, the vocals were pretty constant. Reasonably interesting but not something I want to listen to more of.

I was initially unsure why this had such low reviews. The soaring strings and thrumming brass made me think otherwise. I was leaning towards a 3 until the overly misogynistic lyrics broke into my conscious. Really brash and harmful generalisations that only perpetuated the views we see today

meh

4/10 - It trailed off really fast. The “women are the problem” and “she is such a tease” genre of music is one of my least eras/genres. The best song was also a cover/adaptation which never helps the score.

Pretty standard crooning, nothing very special. 4/10

Scott has a good voice, but overall the album was fairly forgettable and did not leave much impact on me. He kinda sounded like Frank Sinatra at times. ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Very… theatrical?

I don't even know how to describe this - I like it but I don't really understand why. It shouldn't appeal to me but it does?

We have Tom Jones at home

This was just kind of ok. Not really for me. Also, obligatory fuck Phil Spector. 1/5

Sounds completely dated, and a little creepy.

No. 432/1001 Jackie 3/5 Best Of Both Worlds 3/5 Black Sheep Boy 4/5 The Amorous Humphry Plugg 3/5 Next 3/5 The Girls From The Streets 3/5 Plastic Palace People 2/5 Wait Until Dark 3/5 The Girls And The Dogs 3/5 Windows Of The World 3/5 The Bridge 4/5 Come Next Spring 3/5 Average: 3,08 He has an impressive voice. Other than that I’m not the buiggest fan of the music he makes.

not my kind of music

I think my parents had this album. I think this is lame as hell and wonder why this is one I had to listen to.

this seems ahead of its time and its lyrics were very good

god i love cheesy 60's music

Pfff not a huge fan. Also Jackie is Brel's

I don't get it. I hate listening to this dude's music. He's doing too much. And most of the singing sounds like he's singing in a Broadway musical and/or a variety TV show segment and/or some show at a casino. His lyrics are pretentious and self-important. I'm assuming this guy was considered groundbreaking or "important" in his time based on the amount of people who really seem to enjoy riding his balls. I don't. I hate his balls.

Люблю голос Скотта. На этом альбоме меня больше всего цепляют меланхоличные баллады – исполнение на всех уровнях замечательное

There were some interesting ideas in here, like Plastic Palace People, but overall the tone was way too theatrical for me

4/10

Classic voice