Spooked

Existential, acoustic folk rock. Multileveled, dreamlike lyrics; vocals at once sardonic and breathtakingly sincere. The delicate arrangements on this record reflect with the joint musical vision of Hitchcock (ex-Soft Boys, ex-Egyptians) with his new folkie friends David Rawlings and Gillian Welch. (that’s a hard G, btw.) Check out the guitar interplay between Rawlings & Hitchcock and the vocal harmony between Welch & Hitchcock. There’s slide Dobro, there’s sitar and backwards guitar. There’s head-fuck imagery. There’s heart-rending beauty. At 51 Hitchcock is more in touch with his inner child/essence than 1,000 other younger wannabes. His oeuvre stretches back to the mid-‘70s with the neo-psychedelic Soft Boys and the psych/pop Egyptians. Standard comparisons are to Syd Barrett and John Lennon. By now Hitchcock is a genre unto himself. FCC clean. I love every song -- lots of range for lots of moods -- but you can start with 6. 9, 12.

1. Love song to a television. “Binga bonga bing bong.”
2. Hitchcock’s existential/wordplay side in full force.
3. Simple message, simple song. “Everybody needs love.”
4. False beginning followed by a few seconds of silence. Then song fades up. A quiet, nostalgic love ballad.
5. Nearly a capella (plus slide Dobro and finger snaps) gospel blues.
==> 6. The college radio hit. But a super worthy one. “Creeped out American girl... everything is happening behind your eyes.”
7. Cinematic, spooky, dream tale/love song with a baker’s dozen of references to other Hitchcock songs. Beautifully poetic. Slide guitar.
8. Starts with slide guitar. Whimsical acoustic rocker. “Guess what? I’ve spoken to Norm. We’re gonna live in the trees.”
==> 9. Gentle, picked guitar. Very, very Go-Betweens like even though this is a Bob Dylan song. Note to self: go back through the G-B catalog with Dylan in mind.
10. Jazzy, swaying love ditty. Brushed drums, Wurlitzer organ, and guitar.
11. Silly, sub-minute, spoken welcome-to-earth monologue with Welch & Rawlings saying “crackle, crackle, pop.”
==> 12. Late night, weary ballad reminiscent of the “Invisible Hitchcock” period. “I was always in a hurry. But I never knew what for... Now the party’s over. The drugs are taking themselves. And I’m going home.”