Funny thing about Scott Walkers voice-- it is so nuanced and heavy with subtext, it invites you to project on it your own feelings, memories, and experiences. This book is author Jeremy Reed's personal, subjective projections on the deeper meanings of Walker's art. When you're finished (if you make it that far), you'll have a good idea of where Jeremy Reed is coming from, but you'll have gleaned nothing useful about Walker.

Despite what the jacket description may lead you to believe, this is not the story of Scott Walker's life, nor an honest attempt to shed light on the creation of his music. Instead, we get a series of esoteric, rambling essays that attempt to trace the themes in the artist's work

In defense of this book, I suppose it should be noted that the subject is a recluse with very few published interviews. One also presumes he has few friends or associates from whom to obtain revealing anecdotes or funny Scott stories. Certainly Reed is unashamed about having done no real research on the subject. He complains many times in the book about the lack of available information on the man. Never does he seem to consider actually going out and getting some-- that would probably take away from his "me" time. In fact, the author makes no real attempt to piece together the existing information about the artist in a coherent way. Instead, he jumps around through time and barely touches on the events in Scott Walker's life that might have informed his music. We do get lots of meta-physical speculations on Scott Walker's personal psychology, none of which can be backed up by anything other than the author's opinion.

There are most certainly themes in Walker's music, and exploring them is definitely worthwhile. However, the author literally attempts to put himself in Walker's brain, explaining on behalf of the artist what he really means in an incredibly pompous and utterly baseless way. At times, his observations and assumptions are laughable, other times annoying.

And, like this review, it just goes on and on...

Yawn...