So Scott Walker (Engel) walks off into the sunset having lit up the world with a voice of such depth and resonance music itself was hardly big enough to hold it in.

In my capacity as radio bloke for High Peak I had the honour of interviewing Walker Brothers founder John Walker (Maus) at the Buxton Opera House back in what was once regarded as The Day. Scott Walker wasn’t a subject you touched on much; Scott had gone off to start a solo career back in 1967 and there had been a few temporary reunions when the bank balance got a bit squeaky but, by 1967, Scott Walker had pretty much ‘outgrown’ the Walker Brothers formula and had started a lifelong walk on the musical wild side, starting with working his way through the darkness and despair of the Jaques Brel songbook and eventually recording albums including music that many regarded as barely recognizable as ‘songs’.

But WHAT a legacy.

I will admit to a prejudice here; I believe about twenty of the best minutes to come out of the sixties came from The Righteous Brothers. “Lovin’ Feelin” is the single most played choon on American radio and there is a reason for this. And check out “Soul and Inspiration”. And that wasn’t even produced by Phil Spector.

And if that’s what floats your boat, you can’t resist The Walker Brothers. Similarities there are a-plenty; none of them are Brothers to each other and none of them were really called Walker (or for that matter, Righteous). There is truth in the rumour that The Righteous Brothers were so named when a punter in a predominantly black audience they were performing for declared ‘that’s righteous, brothers’.

There is no truth in the rumour that The Walker Brothers were so named by a punter enjoying a potato-based cheese and onion snack food.

Each was fronted by a deep-voiced, achingly soulful lead singer who could make walls weep. But Scott Walker had RANGE. How does he do the ‘la dee dah baby babys’ at the end of “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Any More” in that register when he starts off ‘Loneliness….’ With both voice and soul locked in a cellar somewhere? Not to mention a heart-breaking heartbeat ‘late’? And don’t even talk to me about clever tricks by the knob twiddlers; this was 1966. The world was still black and white and mono. England were in the process of winning the World Cup and studio kit was still operated by blokes (and yes, I do mean blokes) in shop coats.

Each recorded ballads; but managed by harnessing soul and raw power to rise above the cloying sentimentality of many gainfully employed by the genre to create something that would Last. And I’m not talking James Last here.

Each needed voices that could do battle with and soar above, below and around the orchestra of angels; transcendent string arrangements that blow the top of your head off.

Each had mahoosive hits in the sixties but still had enough in the tank to come back and shake the tree many years later.

Both had to tolerate the dorkish demands of the pop business at the time, had to do tooth-rottingly bad TV appearances, pour out their little drops of genius whilst TV studio audiences yawned and scratched themselves, and being compelled to record some stuff which they were ill advised to record. And that’s being polite.

But there it ends.

If The Walker Brothers had kicked it in the head after “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Any More”, their place in the history of recorded music would be cemented; but they didn’t. Check “My Ship Is Coming In”. More Righteous than the Righteous, and that’s saying something.

And “Make It Easy On Yourself”. Their version is better than The Impressions version. And that is the only time you will hear me say that about ANY song recorded by The Impressions (Actually, no; check out “For Your Precious Love” by Linda Jones but for goodness sake NOT after you’ve had a drink; you WILL weep openly for half an hour at least. You Have Been Warned.)

And then, that album they recorded in the mid-seventies for GTO Records. Hit with a Tom Rush song, “No Regrets”. They did it, some say, as a bit of a contract fulfillment job, in order to get on with the things they REALLY wanted to do. But goodness me, on very few occasions has a song been so heavily sold to the listener by being heavily undersold. It sounds like they can’t be bothered…but in delivering it so, it reeks of the world-weariness of the genuinely Tired.

My fave beyond these has to be “The Electrician”.

Anybody who can make a song about the ‘work’ of a CIA torturer an enjoyable listen has pretty much escaped the usual constraints of the music biz, I think it fair to contend.

And after that he never came back, really. Numerous collaborations with the likes of Jarvis Cocker et al. Lots of years off. Lots of tracks which I will cheerfully admit were well beyond me. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t any good or worth a listen; they just didn’t do much for me. I’m at heart a radio man; can’t resist a good hook, no matter how you dress it up.

Thanks Scott; thanks Walkers. I blame Gary Lineker.