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| 1. Sea Song |
| 2. A Last Straw |
| 3. Little Red Riding Hood Hit the Road |
| 4. Alifib |
| 5. Alife |
| 6. Little Red Robin Hood Hit the Road |
So, for what it's worth, I have harbored a theory for many years which consists of the following. If a capable artist is able to allow his or her work to become completely subjective that artist will touch upon something completely objective. That is to say, the artist will come to terms with something that is true to almost every human being.
If you were born near the middle of the 20th century somewhere in the western world, "Rock Bottom" will contain something important for you. Less politicized than most of Wyatt's work, (his outwardly-directed commentary here feels more sociological and personal: "I fight with the handle of my little brown broom...I pull out the wires of the telly-phone...I hurt in the head and I hurt in the aching bone...) "Rock Bottom" is musically and lyrically a work of deeply personal conviction that more than makes up for the immature indulgences of "End of an Ear". In fact, you are forced to wonder if this music would have ever existed had Wyatt not lost the use of his legs in what amounts to a needless, unfortunate accident. While the new cover does the original a bit of disservice -- things do not go swimmingly on this record -- the songs remain the same. Which is to say, the songs can be uplifting and remarkably painful all at once.
There's no reason to guess about what Wyatt came through to arrive at this point. He was an immensely gifted drummer and with "Rock Bottom" he emerges as an immensely gifted writer. I have heard no other record that is filled with such melancholy and determination and self-awareness. Each listening, no matter how many years intervene, provides the listener with a new sense of humility and gratitude. "Rock Bottom" is a singular document in music and in life. If you find yourself in need of something to believe in, try this.
Rock Bottom was made after Robert lost the use of his legs. It has a dark, subaqeous quietude about it; like crawling across the seabed, slowed down by the weight of water. But the urge for anaesthesia is counterbalanced by a blissed-out, oceanic feel. The songs (if we can call them that) all traverse this contradiction: elated, out-of-body; but simultaneously in a state of traumatic aftershock.
This is a beautiful and harrowing record. Like all Robert's best work, it faces intense emotional issues with innocence; even equanimity. That is what makes it so heartbreaking. `Rock Bottom' is desperate, but it has a childlike hopefulness. Worked up in Venice, overlooking the lagoon, its unique sonorities are largely rendered on a toy keyboard bought by Alfreda, Robert's wife. I guess late at night Robert would look at the water, lit by moonlight. He would start to dream. The dreams went into his keyboard. A record came out of all this; and it's one of the five best of all time.
