Creative Loafing
April 1, 1995
The Abandoned Brain
"Oh god. You must be feeling sentimental about that time in your life," Robyn Hitchcock snarled, "if that's your favorite record of mine." His laughter gurgled. Okay, so maybe it's been a few years since Globe Of Frogs (1988) was a hot piece of vinyl. But it's by far Hitchcock's hookiest Pop chew -- whether he chooses to remember it fondly or not. "At least 'Balloon Man' has a great bassline," he finally mustered (with a tad of respect for Frogs' most-likely-to-cause-tooth-decay single). "Yeah -- Andy [Metcalfe, bassist] put a good one on 'Balloon Man'."
Singer-guitarist Robyn Hitchcock's put "a good one" on a few songs himself. His 18-year career clocks in (so far) at three fields (music man, respected painter, and published writer of short fiction), 200-plus songs, four record labels, and two bands (The Soft Boys, a Punk-Leaning-Toward-Postpunk group he formed in England with Morris Windsor and Andy Metcalfe back in 1977; and The Egyptians, a newer incarnation of The Soft Boys). The truth is, Robyn Hitchcock's got so much material he's a bit like the old woman in the shoe (you know, she had so many children, she didn't know what to do). He's not overbearingly ambitious: the stuff just sort of flows simultaneously from him at short intervals.
Hitchcock's a wit-matcher -- one of those songwriters who sticks his emotions in a melodic cubbyhole, and covers them with a curtain of "na-na-na-boo-boo" lyrics. He's probably smarter than anybody you know, but not a snot about it. With its Pop glaze, Rock 'n' Roll dough, and grainy Punk center; Robyn Hitchcock's music is too pretty and too cohesive to rise on the breadpans of intellectual escapism. And -- to no obvious dismay on his part -- his music will probably never bowl the mainstream over with its twisted comeliness, either.
But that's cool with Robyn. He thinks there's too much talk about categorizing his music, anyway. Quirky, schmirky -- who cares?
"It's more Rock than Stravinsky, and it's more Pop than 2 Live Crew," he lobbies -- and it never bows to commercial expectations. Rhino Records evidently thinks enough of Hitchcock's mid-period catalogue to do a major revamping/reissuing collaboration on five solo Hitchcock releases (Black Snake Diamond Role, 1981; The Complete Groovy Decay/Decoy Sessions, 1982-1986; I Often Dream Of Trains, 1984; Invisible Hitchcock, B-sides, 1986; and Eye, 1990), three of the records he made with The Egyptians (Fegmania!, 1985; Gotta Let This Hen Out!, live, 1985; and Element Of Light, 1986), as well as You & Oblivion, a collection of 21 previously unreleased tracks.
Lately, Hitchcock's been recording on K Records out of Olympia. He keeps bragging about how clever the song titles on his latest EP are: "I Something You", "Zipper In My Spine", "Man With A Woman's Shadow". Hitchcock says he always starts with the title when he writes songs. "Half the battle in songwriting is coming up with a great title. If [a song] is called 'Half The Battle', then you know it's going to be crap." But coming up with nifty titles isn't just a game of cleverness. "Songs are also like children in that you want your child to have nice, strong features," father Robyn boasts, reckoning that baby Hitchcock songs should have "big noses and good, dark eyebrows." Hitchcock's favorite sons are his solo record from 1984, I Often Dream Of Trains; and the song "Airscape", from The Egyptians' uber-lauded Element Of Light. Element's a quiet record, for the most part, and Hitchcock almost whispers when he talks about it: "I like the feeling of 'Airscape', in particular. I think it makes people feel like I felt [when I wrote it]. Ghosts are usually associated with twilight. But if you can imagine a ghost shimmering in bright sunlight, a spirit hovering on the beach: that's 'Airscape'."
Robyn Hitchcock's always said that his songs would probably be a lot more popular if he didn't write them or sing them. But only Hitchcock could convey the sentiment and smarm of, say, "The Man Who Invented Himself" or "Some Body". He's often thrown the old Lennon and Dylan comparison rap -- probably because his voice shares the same rasp and his lyrics sometimes drip with socially conscious and vaguely political overtones. But as a songwriter, he's not out to live up to critical expectations or to repeat history (although he's admittedly flattered by the correlations). When asked if he considers himself a good songwriter, he yelps without modesty, "Oh, yeah! I think so. I think I'm probably one of the best."
Hitchcock's been branded with the inevitable "British Pop Star" label -- the one Americans like to slap on any songwriter whose accent isn't as flat as a Midwestern plain. He's a Londoner. And although the foggy town influences the tone of his music more than he'd like, Hitchcock's still proud of his heritage, saying that, "Y'all [Americans] have always been nicer to us then we have to you." The truth is, Robyn Hitchcock's fanbase is worldwide. He thinks he'll probably never storm the charts -- American or otherwise -- but cult-hero status fits him like a second skin. "There are points when I've been impressed by what I've done. And that's what I call success," Hitchcock smiles. "But there's no use writing your name on a piece of soap: it's only going to get washed away."
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