Gary Wilson has always been an enigma, but an enigma whose introversion has always seemed purposefully contrived and manufactured for the sole purpose of evading any sort of responsibility for the semi-maniacal, obsessive schizoid pop he's unleashed onto the masses over the past three-and-a-half decades. From journeyman jazz improvisationalist ("Another Galaxy") to New Wave dissident, Wilson has managed to balance that fine line between perpetual irrelevance and historical poignancy perfectly, remaining true to his vision, no matter how constricted or monotonous.
With "Feel the Beat", Gary Wilson might have struck a dead-end on his four decade mission to bring the Gospel of his compelling brand of kitschy, isolationist funk to the general public. The limerent, borderline psychotic lyrics are in full force here ("There was this girl/that lived just down the road/she wanted to be my friend/she had brown hair/that's cool/i dig the scene"), and there appears to be no real progression as a songwriter for the fifty-nine year-old artist. Each song is yet another frenzied trip into the mind of a lone, sexually corybantic loser who enjoys trips (or, in Gary's case, "wawks") through the park in the dead of night, with a voyeuristic penchant for young, buoyant women and a violent fascination with two equally-enigmatic women, "Karen" and "Mary".
The music of "Feel the Beat" is, perhaps, the most commercially-viable, smooth Wilson's has ever been. While great for a mid-town Manhattan dancefloor inundated with hipsters, it only serves to add to the disjointed schizophrenia that plagues this album throughout. "Where Did You Go?" with it's sleazy, but exceptionally catchy, keyboard lead and tight, danceable groove wouldn't be out of place on the cesspit that is modern terrestrial pop radio, and the self-obsessed "Gary Took A Walk" sounds like Gary wanted to pay homage to seventies soul, but something went horribly awry and his inner-demons took hold of him and made for a slow burning dirge that descends into what could only be described as an angst-fueled, alienated madness ("I feel free/I've got my name carved on that tree").
Though certainly not the best of Wilson's catalogue (in my opinion, his apex was the "Forgotten Lovers" EP), it's still a fairly interesting -- and groovy -- entry into one of the more polarizing careers in popular music, and for an artist of this calibre, that's to be expected.
Verdict: *** 1/2
