Star Tribune
November 5, 1999
Rockin' Robyn
by Vickie Gilmer Casey
Dear Warner Bros.: Robyn Hitchcock has a fantastic new album that was released nearly a month ago. How about doing a little promotion for it? ... It is my understanding that Robyn is seen as a "prestige" artist. If he is, please have the common decency to spell his name correctly on this website.
-- Posted by "Griffith" on Warner Bros.' website
Such is the plight of the cult hero. Fans follow your every move, but blank stares greet you from the purported supporters of your art. They know you're an artist because of your haircut, clothes or unshaven mug, but they can't remember your name, much less how to spell it. And they are oh-so-disappointed in your sales, media coverage and airplay -- all expected to happen miraculously without their assistance. (Okay, they did fix that typo on the website.)
So what's a good cult hero to do? Well, you do what Hitchcock has done. You tour -- all the time -- for nearly 20 years. And when you're ready to quit, you ring up an old friend for a last go-'round, and release one of the strongest albums of your career.
Thursday's show in Minneapolis probably will be Hitchcock's last for a while. After years of solo performances, he's bringing a band featuring guitarist Kimberley Rew, his former Soft Boys bandmate, and pulling out a variety of old gems from his catalog.
Hitchcock has decided to rest that cult hero thing so he can pursue other passions, including painting, writing his first novel and building an Internet empire at "The Museum of Robyn Hitchcock".
His latest album, Jewels For Sophia, indulges his ability to make the mundane intriguing (in this case, watering tomatoes) and his nonsensical storytelling flair (he tells of "a girl who measured your neck"), as the lyrics create morphing, surreal visuals. His oddball dreaminess has a Folk-y, psychedelic bent to it. But he hasn't come this far without getting a little jaded, and he chides Seattle for keeping Jimi Hendrix "in a cage" and having "the best computers and coffee and smack".
Jewels For Sophia could be Hitchcock's defining moment. He roams between the fuzzy, throttling backdrop of "The Cheese Alarm", the minimal soulful throb of "Mexican God", and the pleading delicacy of "You've Got A Sweet Mouth On You, Baby". His Pop energy can be found in the exploding joy of "Elizabeth Jade". There couldn't be a finer way for a hero to say, "See you later -- maybe."
Now Arriving
Another likely cult hero is opening act (and Hitchcock bandmate) Tim Keegan and his group, the Departure Lounge.
Keegan's recent CD Long Distance Information reveals a die-hard romantic who's also had enough lonely nights to scuff up his Britpop with some grim truths. "Disconnected" is saturated with desperation and "Save Me From Happiness" is a near-suicidal lament in which he lethargically begs for solitude. Some light is shed on "(We've Got) Everything We Need", as he eschews the importance of money and wordly goods in the name of true love.
Keegan's outlay encompasses the best-used tenets of Britpop -- a little art, a little Pop Rock, sing-along choruses and ricocheting guitars -- making him a contender to be reckoned with.
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