Robyn Hitchcock
Jewels for Sophia
[Warner Bros.]
Rating: 8.9
Sometime last Saturday afternoon while listening to Robyn Hitchcock's
latest album, I felt a nearly overwhelming urge to lie down on my back in
the middle of my dad's van and never get up. I would have too, if I hadn't
been driving on the highway at the moment.
The song that made me feel that way was "I Feel Beautiful"; the
circumstances involved too sordid and ridiculous to go into here. But
feel that way I did, and it cemented my feelings of love for Jewels for
Sophia. You think that's ass backward, I know, but my fascination for
Robyn Hitchcock is based on this urge. Ever since I first found my
thirteen- year- old self lying in the middle of my living room floor
listening to I Often Dream of Trains, I've based my ratings of
various Hitchcock albums on how debilitating their melancholy is for me.
It's like this: Element of Light makes me want to lie down on the
floor during some of the songs and sit up during others; it's a really good
Hitchcock album. Respect makes me want to lie down for one or two songs
and spend the other songs doing household chores; it's an okay Hitchcock
album. Groovy Decoy makes me want to run around the park; it sucks.
And Jewels for Sophia made me want to abandon the helm of a large
and fast- moving vehicle and lie in the back, heedless of the twisted
guardrails and smoke, and dirty looks from other motorists. That's good
Hitchcock.
"Mexican God" boots the record off with the satisfying click of a
classic- Robyn- Hitchcock- song- shaped peg being snapped into a
classic- Robyn- Hitchcock- song- shaped hole: acoustic strumming, jaunty
drums, bloodthirsty deities-- three great tastes that taste great
together. "The Cheese Alarm" is a fantastic example of what I call the
"Hitchcock Switcheroo": a song that starts out sounding silly and winds
up telling you more than you wanted to know about yourself. "NASA
Clapping" reunites Robyn with fellow former Soft Boy Kimberly Rew with
surprisingly good results. "Antwoman" finds its satisfying quirkiness
not in its lyrics but in its background "sighing machine" and "antvoices"
(the latter provided by Grant Lee Phillips).
The two standout tracks, though, are a fleshed- out version of "No, I
Don't Remeber Guildford" (originally released on last year's Storefront
Hitchcock) and "I Feel Beautiful"-- both of which find Hitchcock doing
what he does most rarely and most brilliantly: using his strangeness
not as an end, but as a means to convey an emotional state. Most
importantly, Jewels for Sophia seems to find Robyn Hitchcock once
again relaxing into the idea that, for better or for worse, he tends to
write Robyn Hitchcock songs-- an idea he seems to have been resisting on
the past few albums. I'm glad for it, personally, even though it nearly
killed me.
-Zach Hooker