Clutchy Hopkins

The recluse with mental illness has always had a bizarre place in the annals of popular music. Every decade or so a few tortured souls fade in and out of view, retreating to apartments or studios to piece together their peculiar visions, recording their neurosis for others to deconstruct.

Clutchy Hopkins could be a fraud, an invention of a publicist or just some guy off the street who knows that anonymity can be its own selling point. The few photos of him show a frightening similarity to Charles Manson, and almost no biographical information is available, just sketchy asides about master tapes picked up in alleys, vague references to managers and possible collaborators who can't be reached for verification.

Walking Backwards is supposedly Hopkins' second effort, and it's an anomaly: an intriguing, enigmatic collection of wayward urban folk that splendidly defies easy description. It's primarily instrumental with elements of jazz and hip-hop thrown in and out of the mix. Songs such as "Sound of the Ghost" and "Last Time for Your Mind" play out like bizarre combinations of themes to spaghetti westerns and music from '70s-era porn. Simple but not simplistic, Walking Backwards is a fascinating peek under a rock—whether or not the rock exists.