“Only One Way To Fall” - The Walker Brothers 1978 Opus :: “Nite Flights”
Third degree radiation burns eclipse the hungry sun above a blistered subconscious. Its looming sense of comedic appreciation and blackout memory seem to puncture the knee-deep anxiety where casually called calamity brushes against mere greatness. Where nothing rarely ever dies, nor sleeps in the midst of concrete countries mourned by thirsty monks and uncivilized critics, a blooming atmosphere of dilated faces eagerly gazing into the sonic jungle of something utterly terrifying looks directly back at you, and yet we’re still surprised. Upon the cosmic flight log, an array of traditions, destinations and manifestations grip the globe in a way that even God mistook it as one of his own miracles.
Though the immaculate trio wasn’t bound by comradely blood, the group undeniably concealed a telepathic magic that was both systematically startling and rhythmically balanced on some decapitated god head deep in the West Coast’s culture of crime and cosmic coincidences. Consisting of John Maus (John Walker), Noel Scott Engel (Scott Walker) and Gary Leeds (Gary Walker), The Walker Brothers simply transcended the candied perimeters of the 1960s pop scene and the crippling seduction of the American psychedelia movement by totally embodying the loner carcass of ethereal romanticism, purgatory poetics and old world phenomena. With 1965’s debut album “Take It Easy with the Walker Brothers”, the band continued on through the decade of hysteria and cultural mayhem with other various classics like “Portrait”, “The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore” and “Images” before reuniting in the far-cry of the 1970s for three more orbits around the smoldering sun of industry.
As each member splintered off in different directions to pursue incredible solo careers, in particular Scott’s 1–4 series, their near decade hiatus had officially come to an end with the trio’s return in 1974 for the release of “No Regrets”. A title oozing with raw reflection and retrospective, the band found itself on a vintage voyage through rekindled partnership, fondness for familiar formula and rhythmic rituals before closing its travel log with the definitive 1978 masterpiece, “Night Flights” once and for all. A gorgeous collection of sensory religion and cooling departures from flesh orbit, you would never guess, or even consider for a second, that Scott hadn’t written a single song in nearly 7 years since“‘Til The Band Comes In” in 1970, and yet the truth bleeds a ruby red hue. His decisions for dormancy would quickly dissolve as he began to tap into the likes of Joni Mitchell, whose career had completely taken over the consciousness of the world by that time, to give The Walker Brothers one last album and arguably their most intimate. Opening with the sensational swells of “Shutout”, Scott’s voice had broken through something so influential, that the atmosphere of its emotion could be felt throughout the universe for cosmic centuries to come.
Laid out in a way that represents three entirely different solo albums from the musicians, “Night Flights” plays like a shapeshifting muscle both criminally fit and radically softened by the comfort of observant meditations from a far. With it’s title track influencing the likes of Bowie and his particular process on 1979’s “Lodger”, the band would soon define the next decade of musicians during the New Wave period, while shedding light on composition, determined dissonance and the solace of song. Continuing with the immaculate anthem of “The Electrician”, Gary’s b-side opus “Den Haague” and John’s epic album ender “Child of Flames”, The Walker Brothers wrapped up production in February, released the album in July and without a sliver of doubt, secured themselves as some of the greatest musicians to ever do it.
This article is dedicated to the late Scott and John Walker, may they rest in peace.
