There are comebacks and there are Lazarus-style re-appearances that even the prophets would probably struggle with. GIL SCOTT-HERON surely falls into this latter category. Despite a reputation for being the coolest thing to rhyme on two legs this side of Richard Pryor or Muhammed Ali during the 1970s, his well-documented battles with both addictions and the law had long since threatened to finish him off. Indeed, this writer's last scheduled run-in with the great man (at the 1990 WOMAD Festival) fell through when Scott-Heron was arrested attempting to bring a sizeable portion of Columbian nose candy through customs at Heathrow.
So, while many of us had essays about the continuing relevance of Scott-Heron's classic 'The Revolution Will Not Be Televised' written into obituaries all ready to go, our man turns up, alive and kicking at an improbable 60 years of age with a record capable of putting the shits up men and women barely a third of his age. Hell, a re-emergence is one thing, but coming back onto the radar with something as downright scary and relevant as this is another thing entirely.
'I'm New Here' is being touted as a similar re-invention as the one pulled off so brilliantly by Johnny Cash and Rick Rubin and there's certainly a fair few grains of truth in that. Produced by XL Recordings supremo Richard Russell, it sets Scott-Heron's darkly affecting rap/ spoken word against minimal and brooding backdrops conjuring up everything from turn of the '80s NYC hip-hop to Tricky at his densest and even current sonic twiddlers like The xx.
So if you're expecting funky '70s swooshes, forget it. Tracks like 'Your Soul & Mine' or the junkie's lament 'The Crutch' (“ a world of lonely men, no love, no God”) are about as forgiving as a tea party given by the Grim Reaper, while the heavily deconstructed claustrophobia of 'New York is Killing Me' (“you got 8 million people and I ain't got a single thing”) is truly gripping, not to mention terrifying. The selection of covers is magnificent too. A sparse and spooked reading of Robert Johnson's chilling 'Me & The Devil' sets the tone, while a brilliant, skeletally acoustic reading of Smog's 'I'm New Here' (“no matter how far wrong you gone/ you can always turn around”) strips us back to the very emotional marrow.
|
A few of the blink-and-you'll-miss-'em spoken word interludes provide relief of sorts (“if you gotta pay for the things you done, I gotta huge bill coming” he guffaws on 'Being Blessed') but there's precious little let-up from the emotional blood-letting. Crucially, though, Scott-Heron has no truck with miserablism merely for the sake of it. His piano and vocal take of Brook Benton's 'I'll Take Care of You' is a real survivor's blues, while 'On Coming From a Broken Home' tells a staggering autobiography but remembers to stand strong and proud at the end. No weakness, brothers and sisters, you got that?
'I'm New Here', then, is a staggering re-emergence. It's relentless, dark and truthful and I can't see it winning any industry awards, but that's irrelevant. It welcomes a genre-defying firebrand back in from a wilderness even his most hardline fans probably thought would never end. Even in this desperate world, it seems miracles can still kick in after all.
Gil Scott-Heron official site.
|
