Scott Walker was a Plastic Palace Person operating high above the heads of everyone else. That song itself is like a Fellini film for all of its themes of innocence and artificiality, and the idea of young Billy floating blissfully above the world calls to my mind the opening sequence of "Eight and a Half". My take is this: Walker's music, so seemingly thick with syrup, so overindulgent and ambitious, it at first appears to be reminiscent of the usual orchestral pop-shlock of the 60s, the types of records you might find in abundance at Goodwill these days; but listen again and you start to discover a dynamic very artistic aesthetic that could never be found with Bing Crosby or in the career of any other crooner who's ever existed. This is the strange and alluring magic of 1960s Scott Walker, a young man ahead of his contemporaries and unwilling to share their style at the risk of being misunderstood and labeled as unfashionable.