Robert Wyatt – A Retrospective

Writing this retrospective of Robert Wyatt has become something of a labour of love. When Domino first sent me a large package of their recent reissues of Wyatt’s back catalogue, I was a bit daunted. Wyatt has become something of a British institution, uniquely admired by music fans and critics alike, though, admittedly, his fans are probably not as numerous as perhaps they should be. Credit to Domino though as one of the reasons for resissuing the less obtainable albums available here is because the bootlegs and originals have been bankrupting fans for years.
Beginning with Wyatt’s first solo album, Rock Bottom, and taking each album in turn is like taking a journey through an undiscovered country. Before I listened to these albums, I’d only been familiar with his reputation with Soft Machine (as a drummer) and his most recent album, 2007′s Comicopera. Each album has seen a further development of his unique vision. It’s one that’s definitively British. Wyatt’s unique vocal very rarely acts as the focal point, his lyrics coming across as something disconnected and floating over the arrangements. By 1997′s Shleep, Wyatt has created a musical world that’s scattered with seemingly stream of conscious monologues and snippets of children’s nursery rhymes, feeling at the same time disconnected and yet perfectly in step. But these were ideas and themes that he’d been experimenting with ever since he first started recording as a solo artist.

Rock Bottom may well be his most accessible work. It’s certainly the sound of a man emerging from being in a band and trying to re-create that atmosphere again. The album sees him working with some of his friends which included Mike Oldfield, Ivor Cutler (the poet) and guitarist Fred Frith. Whilst reading about the situation leading upto the recording of this album, it’s not hard to see how it got its title. Whilst recuperating from the accident that cost him the use of his legs (falling from the 4th story of a building whilst drunk), Wyatt’s songs and arrangements started to come together. Oddly though, most of songs were written before the accident and Wyatt has always denied that it influenced the recording process. It’s impossible NOT to make the connections though as you hear Wyatt’s aching voice strain on “I like you so much better when your drunk… It’s time for me to act human again” from opener ‘Sea Song’. The music is beautifully sparse and delicate. There are flourishes of piano and percussion that weave together, Wyatt’s lyrics acting as a focal point to the disconnected rhythms.

1975′s Ruth Is Stranger Than Richard is a bit more of a mixed bag. The music is influenced heavily by jazz and there’s plenty of wind instruments and passages of music that hint at his movement into more disconnected song structures. However, there’s still time for the pub room brawl of ‘Soup Song’ featuring some piano thatJools Holland would be proud of. The 8-minute sprawl of ‘Team Spirit’ sounds like it should be enjoyed in a lounge suit and sounds terribly dated now, and the album as a whole was greeted with generally negative reviews upon its original release.

Whether this caused Wyatt to have a re-think, only he could say. But we had to wait ten years for his next effort, Old Rottenhat. Now this is, without doubt, a product of its time. Released in the middle of the 80′s when the political outlook was pretty bleak, Wyatt obviously wanted to get something off his chest. All ten tracks were written Wyatt by himself and feature plenty of keyboards and sparse percussion. The song titles give you a good idea of where we’re heading, ‘EastTimor ‘, ‘United States of Amnesia’ and ‘The Age of Self’. Unfortunately, it’s just not that interesting and is another 80′s album that suffers from a brash production to make it sound dated. Looking back, you can’t help but think Wyatt missed the point somewhere, and that his Damascus moment was yet to come.

A 12 year wait then until the next album included in this remastered selection, 1997′s Shleep. Now this is much more like it. Gone are the depressive sounds and lyrics, this is a much more upbeat affair. The sparkling production, courtesy of Brian Eno’s involvement, really allows the underlying percussion and tunes to breath and flow. The cover art is a perfect reflection of what’s going on inside. Opening song ‘Heaps of Sheeps ‘ sets the tone, the jangling rhythms bouncing along like some surreal children’s nursery rhyme. ‘The Duchess’, indeed, IS the sound of the playground, the noise of a kid jumbling words and rhymes to fit the shifting landscape around them. This album is full of the sounds of wonder that people have come to associate with Wyatt and is a beautifully quirky slice of British pop music.

So onto Dondestan (Revisited), which is a bit of an oddity even for Wyatt. The album was originally released in 1991, but Wyatt didn’t have enough money to master it properly until 1998. Luckily, he still had the old tapes and could go back to them, hence the “Revisitation”. Looking back, this is the missing link, so to speak, between the depression fuelled conspiracy of Old Rottenhat and the much more expansive, free wheeling of Shleep. Unfortunately, it lacks the whimsical charm and tunes of the latter. It does stoke the political fires though. The title track revolves around the refrain of “Palestine’s a country, or at least, used to be”, a simple piano and some percussion it’s only musical companion. That is, until the song morphs into something completely different – a dark,synth led drone with Wyatt’s voice humming. It’s certainly bleak listening, but there’s something about it that makes it listenable.

Once again we had a bit of wait, until the next Century no less, for some more Wyatt. Cuckooland (2003) is probably, in my mind at least, the best Wyatt album. It perfectly distills all his previous work into one cohesive effort. The album features a whole host of guest musicians, as usual, and Wyatt is joined by Messers Weller, Gilmour and Manzanera, who all provided some great work, with the presence of Eno on production duties just to add that touch of class. It feels like a journey on the Milky Way, a fluttering of sounds and scattered images that songwriters a quarter of his age would be proud to produce. The sound of jazz permeates the entire record. In particular ‘Old Europe’, a homage to Miles Davis and Juliette Greco , with its shuffling drums and sax, is a beautiful piece of music which gives the impression that Wyatt has hooked up a direct link to the past. At 16 tracks long the album might be a bit of a slog to the casual listener, but it’s worth investing the time to fully absorbing it. Embrace the oddness of Cuckooland and absorb its shuffling influences along with Wyatt’s trumpet work which makes this album a worthwhile listen.

In fact Cuckooland is a perfect summation of these re-releases. In an age of instant gratification, this music has come at the perfect time to remind the public of the virtues of albums. This music is carefully constructed and orchestrated and has taken time to piece together, not thrown together 15 minutes after winning a reality TV show on Channel 4. I might have been a little late to the Wyatt party, but the fact that there’s still this great, undiscovered mass of music out there that has now become readily available, it’s something every music fan should revel in.