Is Robbie's new single a work of genius or a bad joke?
His latest song is certainly strange, but Britain's greatest entertainer is brimming with new-found confidence, says Neil McCormick
Has Robbie Williams lost his marbles?
Williams: his new single is the worst record ever made, according to one newspaperA new single has been unveiled on the nation's airwaves, although you could be excused for not immediately recognising it as the work of Britain's most popular entertainer.
Over some squelchy noises, a sparse, electronic bassline and a chorus melody blatantly borrowed from reggae legends Sly and Robbie's '80s dance classic Boops (Here to Go), Williams delivers a nonsensical, scatological rap in a bored Stoke-on-Trent accent.
"Up your jaxie, split your kecks, sing a song of Semtex, pocket full of Durex." It's a long way from Angels.
Rudebox (as it is aptly titled) is more of an electro skit than a song, almost deliberately amateurish, squeaky clean yet oddly lo-fi.
It is a record so bizarre, it is hard to decide whether its a work of wonky genius or a bad joke.
That, in fact, may be its charm. The Sun, never a paper given to understatement, has declared it the worst record ever made, but Williams himself is so pleased he has announced that, after some 15 years in the music business, he has finally found his true musical identity.
"I was just doing my YTS [Youth Training Scheme] up until now," is his typically double-edged pronouncement, at once self-deprecating (suggesting his former work is nothing to be proud of) and egotistic (the best is yet to come).
Rudebox is to be released next month, with an album to follow in October, recorded in a flurry of creative activity with a variety of collaborators, including ambient boffin William Orbit and club guru Mark Ronson.
Rumours abound that Robbie has abandoned his pop fan base to embrace underground dance culture. So does this mark the birth of Electrobbie? Has he invented a new genre of pop hop?
Or is this set to be one of those embarrassing follies de grandeur that sometimes occur when you allow a star complete creative control, or even a blatant attempt to fulfill contractual obligations with the least possible effort (most notoriously achieved by Lou Reed in 1975 with two sides of screeching feedback released as Metal Machine Music).
Having had a sneak preview, I think its safe for EMI's shareholders to come in off the ledge. It is true that there is a lot of rapping (ranging from Williams's patented comic deadpan to high speed onomatopaeic nonsense), an emphasis on '80s-referencing synths and dance beats, some odd cover versions (from the Human League to world music star Manu Caoi) and a general sense of anything goes.
But, while the anthemic, widescreen pop that established Williams as a family favourite is nowhere in evidence, his well-honed entertainer's instincts, lively sense of the absurd and notoriously short attention span ensure that he remains engaging even at his most self-indulgent.
The songs are short if not always sweet, packed with hooks and delivered with a real spirit of fun and creative freedom. With 16 tracks, none of which outstays its welcome, the overall impression is of ideas piling up. If one crashes and burns, another one will be along in a minute.
It may not please the entire demographic of his enormous audience, but that is what makes it such an intriguing project for such an inveterate crowd pleaser.
At times, it has seemed Robbie Williams can't make up his mind whether he wants to be Liam Gallagher or Frank Sinatra, but this is the eccentric sound of a man with a new-found confidence in his own talent.
Given that Williams has been a solo star for 10 years, it is probably not before time.
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