The Man Who Sold the World

Bowie's follow-up to 1969's Space Oddity album celebrates its 51st birthday today, although it wasn't officially released in the UK until April 1971. The cover art for both releases was quite different as well, but now the shot of Bowie in his splendid flowing dress is the go-to image for this record. It is very different in feel and production compared to its predecessor, and has hints of sludge rock among the loose instrumentation. Produced by Tony Visconti, who also contributes bass and recorder, The Man Who Sold the World marks the first appearances of guitarist Mick Ronson and drummer Mick "Woody" Woodmansey on a Bowie album. Both musicians would go on to be in The Spiders From Mars in the years to come. 

Often overlooked, and featuring many deep-cuts from Bowie's considerable canon, this record is an interesting listen. The aforementioned sludge rock has moments of sounding like an early incarnation of Black Sabbath. Throbbing bass lines abound, there's plenty of distorted guitars and Bowie is shrieking like he never really did again. I guess he was still finding his voice, but you can hear the seeds of his famous inflections in a far few phrases.

The title track is the album's most well-known song, which got another burst of popularity after Nirvana's version was released on their 1994 Unplugged album. It's one of the more mellower moments on offer here, and one of the most tuneful. The haunting guiro and understated vocal transcend the song, and the eerie sound of the song moving from speaker to speaker at its conclusion is very effective. One could feel that Bowie's alien fascination started here, or possibly his explorations of sanity.

Opening with the eight minute long The Width of a Circle, you can feel from the very first note of Ronson's feedback that this is not the Bowie of 1969. The noise gives way to a descending riff that is the backbone of the track and the band kick in. Bowie's vocal is a little mumbly and piercing at the same time, not content to be in the background of the noise. At around the five minute mark the song changes direction and feel, and even has a whiff of early glam rock about it. Even shades of Status Quo can be heard. Not an unpleasant listen, but certainly a meandering one with Ronson given plenty of opportunity to wail. 

Some songs arrive with bombast and purpose, and then don't really deliver. The biggest culprits of this are album closer The Supermen, Saviour Machine and She Shook Me Cold. The latter in particular kicks off with Sabbath-esque stabs and then flounders around in between those rockier bits. 

There are some gems here though, not just the the title track. All the Madmen has a great intro with Visconti's recorders adding another dimension to the narrative of the sanest people living in asylums while the insane ones run riot. Ronson's riffing is awesome, and the unusual last vocal phrase 'zane zane zane, ouvre le chein' would be revisited again on the track Buddha of Suburbia in 1993. I quite like that one. Black Country Rock is also a nice bit of folk rock, which great bass and guitar riffs. Wouldn't be out of place coming out of Jimi Hendrix. Bowie even adds a couple of interesting vocal techniques at the end of the song, including a weird vibrato and a Dylanesque delivery. Running Gun Blues is drawn from a similar folk rock well, and it goes okay. Some nice overdubbed vocals towards its end.

The eerie After All is another album highlight. It feels like something that was very influential on gothic bands in the eighties, drawing on the slightly creepy songs from Bowie's childhood. Oh, and references of Aleister Crowley and Nietzsche. The repeated 'oh, by jingo' vocal lines are overdubbed with menacing harmonies that sound quite otherworldly. This same technique would turn up again on Hunky Dory's The Bewlay Brothers, and some of the songs on Pinups. 

While not a shining jewel in Bowie's crown of albums, it certainly sparkles on occasion. After just listening to it again, I offer up 2.5/5.

NEXT UP: Space Oddity - 14th Nov

Pinups

Coming out in between Aladdin Sane and Diamond Dogs, this album of covers was released today in 1973. Notable for his hit rendition of The Mersey's Sorrow, the record features music from Bowie's teenage years, mostly UK bands from the 1964-1967. Spiders From Mars alumni Trevor Bolder and Mick Ronson return on bass and guitar respectively, but drummer Mick Woodmansey is replaced by Aynsley Dunbar. Mike Garson also reappears to whack the keys.

This is not essential Bowie listening, but is interesting to hear what he dug, and what songs he chose to record given the opportunity. It is quite cool that Australia's own Easybeats got a guernsey with him tackling their smash single Friday On My Mind. 

There's some material I was already familiar with when I first heard this album, namely The Who songs (I Can't Explain 

and Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere) Pink Floyd's See Emily Play, Them's Here Comes the Night and The Kinks' Where Have All The Good Times Gone. I'm not very familiar with The Pretty Things though, and he includes two of their songs here, album opener Rosalyn and Don't Bring Me Down. I've yet to seek out the original versions, but I imagine they would be similar to how they are presented here, possibly a little glammed up and Bowie-ised. Not heard of The Mojos at all, and consequentially didn't know their hit Everything's Alright either. There are two Yardbirds covers here too, Shapes of Things (which I knew) and I Wish You Would (which I didn't). 

Not an album I've listened to very often, and the cover featuring model Twiggy feels like an attempt at an iconic image that didn't quite land. Sorrow is easily the best track here, and arguably the most endearing of all the covers. Despite the energy of the tracks (no doubt fuelled by a little post-split tension from the ex-Spiders from Mars), there's nothing remarkable here. The performances are all good, Ronson in particular handling everything that is thrown at him with ease, but it's more of a novelty record than one that adds to the Bowie mystique. It's not a record that I feel I have to play again immediately after hearing it, unlike others in his canon. And that last listen I just finished might do me for a few more years. I give this album 2/5.

NEXT UP: The Man Who Sold The World - Nov 4th

"Heroes"

The second album of 'The Berlin Trilogy' came out yesterday in 1977. Unlike its predecessor Low, which was released in January of the same year, this record was wholly recorded at Hansa Tonstudio 2 in Berlin. Many of the same personnel from that album are here too with Brian Eno on keyboards (co-writing four of the ten tracks), guitarist Carlos Alomar, bassist George Murray and drummer Dennis Davis. Robert Fripp also contributes some guitar, notably the wonderful lead work on the title track, and Antonia Maaas handles the backing vocals. Tony Visconti is back in the producer's chair with Bowie as well. 

Similarly to Low, the album has several instrumentals, all appearing on the the second side. The record's last track however, The Secret Life of Arabia, does include vocals. While I'm not as big a fan of this album as Low, there is still much to like. The cover itself is arguably Bowie's most iconic, possibly second only to Aladdin Sane. 

The absolute highlight for me is the stunning title track, which is also among my favourite Bowie songs ever. The production is amazing, Fripp's guitar lines are sublime, Bowie's vocal is incredible and the track is deeply stirring. I'd only heard the single version before buying this album during the Great Bowie Prep of 2003/2004, and I now prefer the longer edit. The use of quotation marks on the title were to evoke a sense of irony, despite the uplifting, almost victorious feel of the song. The couple kissing 'by the wall' were eventually revealed to be Visconti and backing singer Maaas. Bowie spied them embracing from the studio window apparently, although he claimed it was an anonymous couple who inspired the lines. Visconti was married to Mary Hopkin at the time. 

Another highlight is album opener Beauty and The Beast, which I'd first heard on my Bowie Singles Collection CD. There's some rollicking piano, squelchy synths and a fairly galloping pace, with a catchy chorus to boot. Maaas' vocals are excellent, and match Bowie's delivery perfectly. The following track, Joe the Lion has some nice moments, but doesn't quite match the former. I do really like the bridge bit though: "It's Monday/Slither down the greasy pipe..." and so on. The playout is kinda cool too: "Joe the lion/Made of iron..." Sons of the Silent Age and Blackout are both quite good too, with the former being a little more engaging with its slightly eerie mood. 

The second side kicks off with the first mostly (instrumental) track V-2 Schneider which builds slowly, but is one of the album's more upbeat moments. There's a brightness, or airiness here feels quite refreshing and easy to enjoy. You could even call it boppy, particularly when Bowie's saxophone comes in. That feeling is quickly dissipated by the dark and ominous Sense of Doubt, one the most aptly titled pieces of music in Bowie's catalog. Sparsely produced, it's only an ominous piano line that's repeated in between bursts of string synths. I'm quite surprised it hasn't turned up in David Lynch movie. 

Bowie picks up a koto for Moss Garden, which is a Japanese instrument. Fairly ethereal, and a real breath of air after Sense of Doubt. It does the sense of sitting in an eastern garden while the wind blows the tress. The following Neuköln is an interesting piece, with Bowie swapping out the koto for his saxophone. He plays some unconventional notes, making it sound almost unrecognisable as that instrument. Can't say the track does much for me, but it's good to hear Bowie stretching himself. 

So, while it isn't as cohesive as other albums, there's a lot to like, and it does hold your attention. Mostly enjoyed listening to it again, and I give it 3/5. 

NEXT UP: Pin-Ups - 19th Oct

'hours...'

Coming after the industrial rock of 1997's Earthling, 'hours...' is Bowie's last studio album of the 20th century. Indeed the cover depicts Bowie's persona from the earlier record being held by the then-contemporary Bowie, possibly comforting himself as he dies(?!). A way of acknowledging the end of one musical style, and the start of another, I guess. Yesterday it turned 22, so it's a good time to have a revisory listen. It was Bowie's 21st studio album, so it's just outgrown itself...kinda...he he he.... 

So, yes, gone are the samples and industrial beats, mostly. It's a fairly mellow affair, which is a bit bizarre considering the album was co-written by Bowie and longtime collaborator Reeves Gabrels. Maybe mellow isn't the right word...maybe sombre is closer? There are still some dirty, squealing guitars though; and some uplifting tunes. The pair also produced the record, with musicians including Sterling Campbell on drums, and Mark Plati on bass, guitars, keyboards and programming.

This album is notable for being the last time Gabrels worked with Bowie, and is also his final release on the Virgin EMI label, before moving to Columbia (Sony) for 2002's Heathen. Bowie and Gabrels had also been writing songs for a video game called Omikron: The Nomad Soul, with some of those sessions being responsible for where most of these tracks came from. 

The opening track, Thursday's Child, is arguably the album's best moment. Featuring vocals from LA singer/songwriter Holly Palmer, the song was also the first single, coming out a month or so before the album. Almost a ballad, the track has a lot of hooks and countermelodies, and its production is similar to the treatment that much of Heathen would benefit from. There's a line that resonates with the album's cover as well: "Throw me tomorrow/Seeing my past and letting go...".

Another highlight for me is the track Seven, which again feels like a pop ballad. The fourth single from the album, it has a slow steady pace, with some unusually melodic lines from Gabrels. The main refrain is "Seven ways to live my life/Or seven ways to die," which could be taken as self-motivation. Like Brooks said, get busy living or get busy dying. Or something like that. The Marius De Vries mix turned up on Bowie compilation Nothing Has Changed in 2014, and was available on some CD single releases on the song (remember them?), but I think the album version is better.

Coming in between Earthling and Heathen, this album really feels transitional. The record's raunchiest rocker (and second single), The Pretty Things Are Going To Hell, could have fit quite easily on Earthling, and the plodding Something In The Air is reminiscent of that album's Seven Years In Tibet. Continuing a common trend in late 90s/early 00s cinema, SITA plays during the end credits of Christopher Nolan's 2000 film Memento. There are some nice effects on Bowie's vocals throughout the track to add to the eerie atmosphere. 

Ultimately, as it is a stepping stone between albums, and created while working on a video game soundtrack, it feels unfocussed. Some songs are a little meandering, particularly the overlong, repetitive If I'm Dreaming My Life, which hits the seven minute mark! Survive is another song that doesn't quite land for me, and Gabrels' guitar feels more intrusive than enhancing. 

There are some nice surprises though, one being the instrumental Brilliant Adventures, which wouldn't be out of place on "Heroes" or even Low. Rather than a narrative piece, it feels like a mood made musical. The track would lend its name to a series of live albums released through DavidBowie.com and the new box set due out later this year, covering 1992-2001. What's Really Happening? has some classic Bowie moments too, especially the vocal delivery, although the track as a whole is nothing special. The opening of New Angels of Promise sounds quite, um, promising as it starts, but again doesn't seem to deliver on what the intro teases. I quite like the album's closing song too, The Dreamers, which apparently is the name given to Bowie, Gabrels & Gail Ann Dorsey as the band in the previously mentioned video game. 

While this is an easier listen than 1. Outside, it's probably on the same level of enjoyment for me. It's shorter, which is nice, but the highpoints aren't as high. So, I'd give this 2.5/5 as well. Today I listened to the album three times, and it was cool to take it in over a coupla 'hours...'

NEXT UP: "Heroes" - Oct 14th

1. Outside

Bowie's nineteenth studio album reunited him with Brian Eno, but this isn't a continuation of their work together during the late 1970s; it is indeed a separate beast. Subtitled The Nathan Adler Diaries: A Hyper-cycle, the album tells the story of a group of characters on the eve of the year 2000, some five years away at the time of release. The record marks its twenty sixth anniversary today, and helped Bowie reach the singles chart in the US for the first time since 1987. 

This is not a casual listen, by any means. You couldn't load this into part of a playlist and hit shuffle, for instance. There are monologues from different characters, sub-plots and a loose narrative throughout. While 1. Outside (or just Outside, I guess) isn't one of my favourite Bowie albums, there are some great moments, and the scope and attempt at storytelling is to be applauded. 

After the scene-setting opening tracks depicting the character of Leon Blank going, you guessed it, outside, the detective Nathan Adler arrives. Cue album highlight The Heart's Filthy Lesson, which would go on to be used to startling effect in the movie Seven. There are numerous remixes and extended version of this song out there, but the album track is pretty damn good. The track was the first single released from the record, followed by Strangers When We Meet, another great song. This was originally written and recorded for Bowie's 1993 'soundtrack' for Buddha of Suburbia, and it's the only track that was written before Outside sessions commenced. So, the version that appears here is a new recording, and a bit more 'lush' than the 1993 one, according to the man himself. Coming at the end of the album, it feels like a breath of fresh air. As this is Bowie's longest studio offering, you've been subjected to almost seventy minutes of story and atmosphere before this arrives to cleanse your earholes. It is one of the few songs here that holds up nicely on its own, along with THFL. 

The third single, Hallo Spaceboy, was actually rerecorded and remixed in early 1996, and featured the Pet Shop Boys. I have vague memories of seeing the video clip on Rage at the time. I think it may have been the first time I saw a new Bowie video since the eighties. I remember liking it, and thinking it was quite poppy. I thought it was cool that Major Tom was being referred to again. The version on the album is quite different. There are no Pet Shop Boys. The melody remains, but instead of a radio-friendly pop production, it borders on an industrial thudding assault. It is more inline with the rest of the record, than the single release, and works really well among the other tracks. Stands nicely on its own though. If you see any live performances of the song, you'll have flashing lights accompanying the constant thud. Kinda cool though.

There are a few other highlights on the album for me. The Motel got a guernsey on the A Reality Tour on some nights, which is an interesting choice. Without the context of the album, it exists as an eerie character piece. I really like the repeated adage of "there's no hell like an old hell" though. Big on atmosphere and mood, it's not a tune you can easily sing along to, and it's certainly not a stadium anthem either. So, I don't know how well received those live performances were, he he he. I also quite like I'm Deranged, but that's probably due to its usage in David Lynch's eccentric but brilliant Lost Highway. 

As I mentioned earlier, Strangers When We Meet is the only song that had been written before Bowie and Eno began recording. Joining them were guitarists Reeves Gabrels and Carlos Alomar, bassist Erdal Kızılçay, pianist Mike Garson and drummer Sterling Campbell. Additional contributions were made by jazz drummer Joey Baron and Israeli bassist Yossi Fine. 

In addition to his duties as a co-producer and instrumentalist, Eno is also credited with providing strategies, using flash cards and word randomisers with Bowie to help create characters and songs that didn't rely on clichés. This is a dense, long listen. There is a short essay in the liner notes that help scope out the loose plot of a murdered baby and the people that come in and out of the story. Some of the characters are portrayed by Bowie putting on accents or having his voice manipulated with various effects. As you would probably guess, with it being fully titled 1. Outside - The Nathan Adler Diaries: A Hyper-cycle there was a plan to release another album in the same vein. Ideas from Bowie included putting out an album each year until 2000 and have the music line up with the present, or releasing a trilogy. None of those concept came to fruition. 

So, there is some good, and some bad, the length being the biggest obstacle. One wonders if the bits of narration were removed along with the mood-setting pieces, there would remain a tighter album with some strong songs. Imagine an album that kicks off with The Heart's Filthy Lesson...  It would be a shame to lose those characters and that created world though. 

Bowie's longest studio album is not one I'll probably pull out again anytime soon. I give it 2.5/5.

NEXT UP: Hours... - 4th Oct

Reality

David Bowie's 23rd studio album turns 18 today, and the tour of this album is when I got to see him live! Rhones and I made the jaunt to sunny Melbourne in February 2004, along with some of our friends, to catch him at Rod Laver Arena on the 26th! I wouldn't have thought that that concert would be the only time I'd see him perform. It was in Germany the following year, that Bowie would suffer a heart attack onstage while at Hurricane festival. He pretty much disappeared from the public eye for ten years.

But, this is a pretty good album, full of energy and boasting an excellent stable of musicians. Headed by legendary guitarist and MD Gerry Leonard, this record features previous band members Earl Slick on guitar and Mike Garson on piano. Tony Visconti is also here as a co-producer again, adding a bit of keyboard and guitar along the way. Drummer Sterling Campbell joins Mike Plati on the bass in the rhythm section, although it would be bassist Gail Ann Dorsey taking up that role on the tour. She also contributes background vocals along with renowned jazz singer Catherine Russell. Filling out the core band is guitarist David Torn as well.

I can remember seeing the film clip for the album's first single New Killer Star on the TV, possibly when we still had Foxtel, so it must have been the now defunct Max channel. There was only fifteen months in between the release of this album and Bowie's previous studio effort Heathen, so I remember being quite surprised to see a new song from him. I also remember liking it instantly. It's a great track, great way to kick off the album. I'm still very fond of it. Always thought it should have more of a ripple through the music charts at the time.

Sonically similar to Heathen (you could treat them as siblings), but still with its own sense of purpose in Bowie's catalog, this a very enjoyable album. Some of my favourite songs of this century's Bowie are here. Never Get Old has taken on new meaning since his passing, but it remains quite a fun track, and the reflective Days is a nice ballad about looking back. While I don't get what the song is about, I also quite like the vibe and production of Fall Dog Bombs the Moon.

On the cover front, Bowie tackles The Modern Lovers and George Harrison, who had passed away in late 2001. The former is a track called Pablo Picasso, and is something of a novelty tune. Not heard the original, although I like some of their stuff, but this doesn't do much for me. I really like the Harrison number though, Try Some, Buy Some, from his 1973 album Living In The Material World. Fun fact: the song was first put out as a single by Ronnie Spector in 1971.

There are a couple of tracks that I don't really dig, one being The Loneliest Guy. Nice premise, nice spooky arrangement, but I think it misses the mark and doesn't quite land for me. The title song is a bizarre monster too, starting with a big punch, production wise. The band sound great, but the song doesn't seem to go anywhere. It's a weird choice to have as the penultimate track too, because it would end up being in the first few songs for most of the concerts on the A Reality Tour. She'll Drive the Big Car plods on a little too.

The album's final offering, Bring Me the Disco King, is a huge favourite of mine. I love that it closes the record too. Sparsely produced, the track only features Garson on piano, Bowie's vocal and session drummer Matt Chamberlain. It's quite different from anything else on this record, and the rest of the Bowie canon at the time. It's a huge standout for me, and I got a wonderful surprise at the A Bowie Celebration show at the Perth Concert Hall a coupla years back. They started the show with BMtDK, sung by Bernard Fowler! Very cool. Never saw Bowie sing it live, but I can watch him do it on the A Reality Tour DVD. 

So, yes, much to like about this album. I give it 3.5/5. Listened to it again day.

NEXT UP: 1. Outside - 26th Sep

Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps)

Celebrating its 41st birthday today is Bowie's first offering of the 1980s. I'm going to say right away that this is one of my favourite albums of his, and I think it would be in my Top 5 Bowie records. It's also one of a handful of Bowie that I have on vinyl. Again, as I have mentioned on several previous blog posts, I was aware of Bowie growing up, but didn't really become as big a fan as I am now until the early mid nineties. I don't think I listened to this album in full until the early '00s. 

This is the first studio release to come after Bowie's so-called 'Berlin trilogy' and some of the musicians who played on Lodger return. The rhythm section of bassist George Murray and drummer Dennis Davis join old mate Carlos Alomar on guitar with new bandmate Andy Clark on synthesiser. Returning for the first time since 1976's Station to Station is pianist extraordinaire Roy Bittan, although he only plays on three tracks. King Crimson's Robert Fripp also plays guitar on about half of the album, his first appearance on a Bowie album since 1977's "Heroes". Sadly, neither Bittan or Fripp would play on a future Bowie release. Tony Visconti also returns to co-produce the album and contribute some acoustic guitar and background vocals. 

I remember seeing the video for Ashes to Ashes on Countdown (an old music show on the ABC, for those too young to remember). The image of Bowie as a Pierrot clown is very possibly my earliest memory of him. The song was a pretty bit hit in its day, hitting No.1 on the singles charts in the UK and Australia. Rightly so, I mean, it's a corker. Partly a sequel to Space Oddity and some kind of eighties nursery rhyme, the distinctive synth riff make this one of Bowie's most recognisable tunes. You can thank synth guitarist Chuck Hammer for that. I think I remember hearing the album title Scary Monsters around the time this video was doing the rounds. Back then it was the most expensive film clip ever made for a song, costing over a quarter of a million pounds, reportedly.

Any other experience I had with this album came in dribs and drabs. It was the Changesbowie compilation cassette I bought as a teenager that first introduced me the to song Fashion. I previously heard a snippet of the outro on the aforementioned album's TV commercial. It must have been around 1990, and I dug that part of the track instantly. Upon a full listen, I was somewhat disappointed to learn that the 'fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion' bit only happened at the end, he he he. I soon grew to love it, and it remains a big fave of mine, of not just this album, but Bowie in general.

The title track appeared on Bowie's The Singles Collection 2, which I must have acquired on CD in the mid nineties. I remember being fairly nonplussed on first hearing it, but I quite enjoy the song now. I particularly like hearing live versions of Bowie performing it with Nine Inch Nails. It's quite aggressive in tone, an approach which was similarly mined for the title track of Reality in 2003. Both songs come out swinging, as it were. Up the Hill Backwards was also issued as a single in early 1981, which is not a bad track, but for mine, easily the weakest of the four. I do really like the line "I'm okay/You're so-so" which takes a gentle swing at the self help movement that began burgeoning in the late sixties. 

What's left of the album is also very strong, for the most part. Kicking off with the manic It's No Game (Part 1), you are almost kicked in the head by Fripp's abrasive guitar and Bowie's unhinged vocal delivery. One of my friends remarked after hearing this that "shouty, out-of-key Bowie is my favourite". He hehe. There's also some dialogue recited in Japanese courtesy of Michi Hirota. Yeah, not your average Bowie track, which is possibly why I like it so much. What I also really like is that the record is bookended by this and It's No Game (Part 2), which is basically a calmer take of the first version. Slightly different lyrics too, but the arrangement is gentler and Bowie's vocal is an octave lower. Works brilliantly! The former begins with the sound of a film projector starting up, and the latter has that flapping noise of the tape once the film ends. Nice touch.

The first song of the second side, Teenage Wildlife, is another big favourite of mine. Benefiting from some way-out riffing from Fripp again, and Bittan on the keys, it features one of my favourite Bowie vocals. Almost all of his little tricks from his toolbox are used here, and it's one of my quintessential Bowie songs. I also love how the drums go into double time around the two minute mark, and just stay there! The whole song seems to shift up a gear, but all that has changed is the drums! Awesome stuff. I also quite like the cover of (Television frontman) Tom Verlaine's Kingdom Come, which is the only song on this album not wholly written by Bowie.

Pete Townshend plays guitar on Because You're Young, which unfortunately is one of the weaker tracks on offer here. Townshend would also play guitar on Slow Burn for the Heathen album in 2002. Scream Like a Baby has some nice moments, particularly parts of the drum and synth work. Bowie's vocal distortions in the bridge are quite fun as well. But again, I think these two songs are the least impressive ones.

On the whole, there is much to enjoy here. Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) is a very cohesive and consistent record, and I like it a lot. I give this 4/5, and at the type of typing these words, I'm listening to it!

NEXT UP: Reality - Sep 16th

Tonight

Whoops! I spaced on the date again. This album celebrated its 37th anniversary on the 1st of September, one of a handful of maligned releases Bowie issued in the eighties. But, is it really all that bad? Let's take a look. It's been a while...

The follow-up to Bowie's hugely successful Let's Dance features the return of bassist Carmine Rojas and drummer Omar Hakim, who both played on that record. Gone are Stevie Ray Vaughan and Niles Rogers unfortunately; but old friends Carlos Alomar and Robin Clark are back on guitar and backing vocals respectively. Another big presence is multi-instrumentalist, and the album's co-producer Derek Bramble. Hugh Padgham also earns a production credit, also acting as the record's engineer and mixer.

I did get this on CD in the leadup to seeing Bowie live in Melbourne in February 2004, but I don't think I've listened to it from start to finish since then. Now seems like a good time to rectify that. Let's go track by track, yeah?

1. LOVING THE ALIEN
For me, this is the album's absolute highlight. I think I was aware of this song before I ever heard it in full, which must have been around the early '00s, but my first impression was 'Ooooh, that's the bit from the Red Dwarf feem toon!'. It's a great track, and I think I became a little more enamoured with it when Bowie and Gerry Leonard stripped the arrangement back to basics on the A Reality Tour DVD. The full album version breaches the seven minute mark, which is basically the outgoing guitar solo, courtesy of Alomar. The single edit certainly works for brevity, but it's nice to hear the whole thing. One of only two songs wholly written by Bowie on this album. The themes of alienation and isolation that was present in a lot of his early work returns here, with the hope that the rest of the record will follow suit. 

2. DON'T LOOK DOWN
Unfortunately, not. A faux reggae feel permeates this track, and while it's not a terrible song, it feels a little half-baked. It's actually a cover of an Iggy Pop song, which I would not have picked. Bizarrely, it's the first of five tracks here that were co-written by Iggy. Maybe the success of China Girl prompted Bowie to look at some other songs of his..?

3. GOD ONLY KNOWS
Bowie covers The Beach Boys? Yes, indeed. This feels like a big swing and a miss, which is a shame. I don't know if it's the arrangement, which is full of pulsing horns, or a badly picked key to perform it in but it doesn't really land. I guess this is just one of those songs with a 'Cover at Your Own Risk' clause. Missed opportunity, I think.

4. TONIGHT
Enter Tina Turner! And more eighties poppy reggae vibes; complete with key change at the end! This is another Iggy Pop cover, which was co-written by Bowie, and originally featured on the 1977 album Lust For Life, which Bowie also co-produced. Again, I've not heard the source material, but it feels a little lacklustre. Even Tina's vocal is relegated to back-up duties, rather than this becoming a true duet. 

5. NEIGHBOURHOOD THREAT
Again, another Iggy Pop cover, and also taken from Lust For Life. This has a little more punch and presence than the other two though. Some nice quiet menace in Bowie's vocal delivery and the stabby horns are great, particularly at the end, which is the perfect lead-in for...

6. BLUE JEAN
The album's first single, which was issued as part of a 21min short video directed by Julien Temple called Jazzin' for Blue Jean. I first heard this track as the final song on the Changesbowie tape I bought in Bali when I was 14. It took a while to really enjoy the track. It came on after Modern Love, which let's face it, is a much better song, and probably a better way to end the compilation. So, for years Blue Jean felt like an interruption or a final thought better left 'unthunk', for want of a better word. Thankfully, I've garnered more affection for it over the years. I think the turning point might have been seeing Kate Ceberano live and she belted out a ripping cover version. Anyway, it's easily one of the album's few highlights.

7. TUMBLE AND TWIRL
Another song co-written by Bowie and Iggy Pop. This hadn't turned up on either singer's album, and again comes across as a bit of pleasant filler. There are some nice bits of horn, and cool octave harmonies from Bowie. There's some nice slap bass guitar work here courtesy of Mark King (Level 42), who was uncredited for some reason. 

8.  I KEEP FORGETTIN'
Now, here is another cover from the sixties, very much in vogue during the eighties. Not heard the original, which apparently was done by Chuck Jackson, who enjoyed a hit with the Bacharach/David penned Any Day Now. Not an unpleasant listen, but a little tepid. 

9. DANCING WITH THE BIG BOYS
The final song of the album was a lot of eighties bombast, and was co-written by Iggy Pop and Carlos Alomar. Iggy actually appears on the track, although you wouldn't really know it. His vocal is buried behind Bowie and the three background singers. It doesn't take long for this one to lose its charm as well, as the lyrics are quite repetitive. Thankfully, it ends quickly, as does the album. It barely breaks thirty five minutes, which isn't a bad thing, I guess. Wait, that means that Loving the Alien takes up a fifth of the album? Far out.

Yeah, not great, but not terrible. I'd almost give it three stars just for Loving the Alien and Blue Jean. But I won't. 2/5 from me. Can't see me revisiting it for a while, he he he...

NEXT UP: Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) - Sep 12th

Album of the Week - Vol. 22

Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround, Part One THE KINKS (1970)
Week: Mon 16th to Sun 22nd August 
Format: vinyl
Producer: Ray Davies
Track listing:
SIDE 1:
1. The Contenders *
2. Strangers *
3. Denmark Street
4. Get Back in Line *
5. Lola
6. Top of the Pops
7. The Moneygoround
SIDE 2:
1. This Time Tomorrow *
2. A Long Way from Home
3. Rats
4. Apeman
5. Powerman *
6. Got to Be Free
TOTAL RUNNING TIME: 40:25

This is an album that I largely ignored for a long time. I think possibly because the record included Lola. Through either repeated listening or requests to sing it, I got quite tired of the track. I knew Lola and Apeman from The Kinks compilation The Ultimate Collection, which came out in 1989 and did the rounds while I was at high school. Pretty sure I managed to get a taped copy of it from a friend. 

As the years went by, I was happy to leave the album alone. I went through a mini Kinks phase around a decade or more ago where I thrashed the Village Green Preservation Society album (1968), and the subsequent follow-up Arthur (1969). It would have made sense to check this record out then, as it followed the order of releases I'd found myself in. But, no, I abstained. 

Until I watched 2007's The Darjeeling Limited. 

Wes Anderson has made some very interesting films over the years, but TDL was the first one of his that I really liked. I didn't think much of Rushmore (been meaning to rewatch it though), felt that The Life Aquatic... was a missed opportunity with an excellent cast (despite the use of Bowie music), and it took a while for me to warm to The Royal Tenenbaums. Oh, and I missed Bottle Rocket altogether. Still not caught it. However, I've enjoyed most of the films he's released since. In fact, every movie he's put out since TDL I've really liked. Fantastic Mr Fox is just that, Moonrise Kingdom was a lot of fun, The Grand Budapest Hotel is wonderful, and possibly my pick of his films and Isle of Dogs was very good too. Not seen The French Dispatch yet, but who has?

Well, that's enough digression I think. Let's get back to the album at the top of the post, and the movie that inspired me to listen to it.

For those unfamiliar, TDL deals with three brothers grappling with the death of their father. In an effort to bridge the growing divide between them, the eldest brother (I think?) Francis, played by Owen Wilson invites his siblings on a spiritual journey which starts on the titular train in India. The first Kinks songs plays when Adrien Brody, portraying the young brother (I think?) Peter, is running to catch said train as it pulls out of the station. The track is This Time Tomorrow, and when the airplane noise at the song's start plays, the sequence goes into slow motion. 

When I first watched this movie, I knew instantly that this was a Kinks song, but I'd never heard it before. Ray Davies' distinctive lead vocals made the band unmistakable. Mirroring this scene, one of the last moments of the movie has all three brothers running to catch another train, again in slow motion, but with the song Powerman playing. It was the strength of these tunes (and these scenes, let's be honest) that convinced me to check out the entire Kinks album containing these songs. 

The third song from this record used in TDL is Strangers, written and sung by Dave Davies (yes, that's his real name!), Ray's brother. I didn't pick it for a Kinks song on my initial watch, probably due to that fact. It didn't leave as much as a mark on me as the other two either, but it has now become one of my album favourites. Again, the sequence employs the use of slow motion, at around the midpoint of the movie. If you'd like to read more on these songs and their corresponding film scenes, I stumbled upon this. Spoiler alert! If you haven't watched TDL.

Now, after getting my hands on a copy of the album, the next song that had a big impact on me was opening track The Contenders. Beginning with a fairly light and melodic intro of vocal and guitar, the tune kicks into gear with a cool rock riff and some stabs by the band. I would offer up the word 'rollicking' as the piano joins in and the song really gets underway. It became a staple of the playlists I would put together for WGJS gigs. As we packed our gear away, it almost became expected by my bandmates that this song would appear, he he he. Other tracks I really liked were Get Back In Line, Denmark Street and The Moneygoround. 

So that's a brief history of me discovering the album, but my education with it was quite slow. It wasn't until I procured a copy of the 50th anniversary release on vinyl last year that I learned a bit more about it. The first revelation being that this was recorded while The Kinks were briefly a five piece band.

After passing muster in a recording session for Lola, keyboardist John Gosling joined the fold in May 1970. The quintet included Gosling, the Davies brothers, drummer Mick Avory (who had been in the band since 1964) and bassist John Dalton who permanently replaced Pete Quaife in 1969. Dalton had filled in for Quaife on several occasions after he broke his leg in June 1966. 

I'd been a little blind to album's loose concept as well, in that it was quite a scathing attack on the music industry. Both Denmark Street and The Moneygoround display contempt for those who sign bands on the dotted line without liking them, but are happy to take the money they generate. The two singles Lola and Apeman seem separate from this narrative, and in my mind, the whole second side only has a couple of moments tied to the concept. Indeed those two songs are more of a reflection of the time period, and how people are changing. According to Ray Davies, the big undercurrent of the album is the constant struggle of good vs. evil.

There was supposed to be a direct follow-up to this record, hence the 'Part One' in the title. It didn't eventuate unfortunately, with the Kinks' subsequent studio release being 1971's Muswell Hillbillies. One might wonder what would happen if this album ever got a sequel some forty odd years later. 

If nothing else, this album did not deserve to be ignored by me for so long.  I can thank Mr Anderson for pushing me into delving into it, and for that, I remain grateful. 

Album of the Week - Vol.21

Queen of Denmark JOHN GRANT (2010)
Week: Wed 4th to Tue 10th August
Format: CD/iPod
Producer(s): Eric Pulido, Paul Alexander and John Grant
Track listing:
1. TC and Honeybear
2. Marz *
3. Where Dreams Go to Die *
4. Sigourney Weaver *
5. Chicken Bones
6. Silver Platter Club
7. It's Easier
8. Outer Space *
9. Jesus Hates Faggots
10. Caramel
11. Leopard & Lamb
12. Queen of Denmark *
TOTAL RUNNING TIME: 51:16

It took me a while to really warm to this album. I first sought it out after Midlake shared a post on social media about it. Midlake are one of my favourite bands, having delivered one of my favourite albums ever, The Trials of Van Occupanther in 2006. So, I was keen to see why they were celebrating the ten year anniversary of this record's release and decide to have a listen. 

I discovered that Midlake were actually the backing band for Grant during the recording of this album, which took place at their studio in Denton, Texas. The record was born out of two lengthy sessions in mid-/late 2008 and mid-2009, possibly while Midlake were recording their third album The Courage of Others. I don't know for sure.

Grant used to be the frontman for a band called The Czars, who broke up in 2004. I've not heard any of their music, and I don't know how Midlake came to cross paths with Grant, but maybe they toured or played together at some point? Anyway, the recording of this album was a very cathartic process for Grant, and Midlake's help in getting it made might have helped him on more than one level. Shortly after the album was completed, Grant checked himself into hospital after grappling with suicidal thoughts. 

Struggling with alcohol and drug abuse for many years, Grant wrestled with the self-loathing he felt growing up as the only homosexual boy in a conservative Colorado high school. His mother passed away in 1995 having not reconciled with her son's sexuality. Born in Buchanan, Michigan, his family moved to Colorado while Grant was a teenager, stupidly hoping that somehow his gay feelings would stay behind. He released his fifth album this year, titled Boy From Michigan, which also revisits these feelings of accepting his own identity as a gay man.

Grant spent years being angry at himself for being so scared of who he was, living amongst many who used religion to convince him that he was going to hell. Working through traumatic experiences from his past and his parents' disappointment in him resulted in a lot of subject matter of this album. As I've delved into it more and more since that first listen, I've come to be very fond of what he and Midlake recorded together. 

I had actually heard one of the songs before, and I'd forgotten about it totally. Album highlight Sigourney Weaver also has some of the album's best lyrics, as Grant expresses how his family's move from Michigan to Colorado affected him:

"I feel just like Winona Ryder in that movie about vampires/

And she couldn't get that accent right, neither could that other guy"

The track's production is bang-on as well. The use of the harmony guitar lines in the chorus are fabulous and the excellent kitschy keyboard parts add to that 70s prog feel that permeates the album. Interestingly, this latter instrumentation that I loved on Midlake's ...Van Occupanter is sorely missing on The Courage of Others. I think if they'd embraced those fabulous synth-y sounds for their third album it would have been, um, better. He he he...now, that's unfair. It was always going to be hard to top ...Van Occupanther, but the pastoral production makes much of the material sound like a dirge. 

But I digress! I also really like Where Dreams Go to Die, which is quite mournful in tone, but manages to sound uplifting. The song laments the end of a relationship, and even regrets that it ever started, but there's a glimmer of hope in the finality of it all. The finally resolves of the chorus are quite gentle and beautiful, with some lovely violin lines courtesy of English musician Fiona Brice. 

Other big highlights for me include Marz (which is the name of a lollie store in Grant's Michigan hometown), the self-serving resignation of It's Easier and the wonderful Outer Space, a statement of awe and the failure to describe someone that the singer has become enamoured with. The stunning title track, and the album's final song, is another excellent offering. Apparently the tune has been covered by Sinead O'Connor, but I've yet to track it down to have a listen. I love that the song's last line, and ultimately the album's last line too, is "Who knows, maybe you'll get to be the next queen of Denmark".

One of the more explicit songs that deals with Grant's attempts to accept himself, and his sexuality, is the somewhat controversially titled Jesus Hates Faggots. The second verse starts off with:

"I can't believe that I've considered taking my own life/

Cos I believed the lies about me were the truth"

The opening lines possibly inspired the bizarre album cover as well:

"I've felt uncomfortable since the day that I was born/

Since the day I glimpsed the black abyss in your eyes"

But yes, the song does use potentially offensive language in getting its point across. That being that you can use religion to hate anything and feel justified. It is deceptively jaunty in its production and feel, but there is a deep pool of resentment bubbling underneath it all. 

While some of this album isn't an easy listen, as is the case with many cathartic releases, there is a lot to enjoy. I'm not the biggest fan of Chicken Bones or the unnecessarily overlong Silver Platter Club, but they're still easy to listen to. This has been an album that I've gone back to a lot lately, mainly because I got sucked into Grant's newest release, which I'm really enjoying.

Co-produced by Grant with Midlake's bassist Paul Alexander and now lead vocalist Eric Pulido this record is a nice step from ...Van Occupanther to The Courage of Others. Midlake's lead singer (and chief songwriter) during this period, Tim Smith contributes some lovely bits of flute, particularly on the strangely haunting album opener TC and Honeybear. This is an album that keeps revealing treasures after each listen, and I'm quite grateful to own a copy. I will no doubt dig a little deeper into Grant's other releases. Maybe. He he he...

What's the deal with Logan's Run?

There's something almost mythical about the seminal 1976 sci-fi movie Logan's Run. While it certainly enjoys cult status in this day and age, there's an air of excitement at the mere mention of its name. People who haven't even seen it could probably tell you the plot, or might have seen parodies/references in other forms of pop culture. 

One instance that comes to mind is Friends. The episode with Denise Richards as Ross and Monica's cousin Cassie (aptly titled The One with Ross and Monica's Cousin) somewhat overstates the film's appeal. While Ross struggles with his feelings for his cousin, his internal monologue shares this thought with the audience: "She was the one who wanted to rent Logan's Run, the sexiest movie ever." While it doesn't live up to that description, there is still a lot to like. And a fair sprinkling of naff stuff too. 

I can't remember what gave me the impetus to want to watch it again, but a recent search through various streaming services bore no fruit. 

Until a few Monday nights ago. 

I saw that it had landed on Netflix as I scrolled through their new additions. I did not hesitate, he he he, and started watching it straightaway, despite the late hour. After about forty minutes, I succumbed to the wave of sleep that was lapping at my brain. But, before that happened, I was enjoying being transported into the future. For those unfamililar with the movie, the year is 2274. You're presented with a seemingly utopian future wherein its occupants live only for pleasure, inside a bunch of geodesic domes. Cut off from the outside world, and history itself, people in this city are harvested rather than born. The idea of knowing your parents or being raised by them is a foreign concept. Each child has a crystal implanted into their palm, which are called 'life-clocks'. The colour of these crystals change as the person ages, and they also dress in clothes of the same colour. 

The life clocks start flashing red as you approach your Last Day, which is the age of thirty, and you must go through the ritual of 'carrousel'. This is a ceremony where those who have arrive at their Last Day are gathered in a circle before an audience and fired upon with lasers as they fly in the air. The all-seeing/all-knowing computers that run the city say that there is a chance of being re-born, and the onlookers at the events joyously chant "Renew!" as the thirty-year-olds of their population are summarily executed. 

Those unwilling to surrender themselves to the 'carrousel' ritual try to run. This won't do. So the city's computers recruit enforcers called Sandmen to hunt and terminate these runners. The titular Logan is played by Michael York and he is the former, a twenty-six-year-old Sandman enjoying all the pleasures this world offers. For those more familiar with York's work as Basil Exposition in the Austin Powers franchise, it may be quite jarring to see him so young, but still sound so Basil. 

Anyway, the powers that be decide that there are too many people unaccounted for. It is suspected by the computers that some of the runners may have possibly escaped the city and found the mythic 'Sanctuary', a place spoken of amongst the small movement of freedom fighters as an alternative to life in the domes. To verify this, Logan is selected to find this Sanctuary, but to create a plausible cover the computer alters his life-clock crystal to flash red, suddenly removing the four years he had left. 

The scene in which this happens is my earliest memory of this movie. I would have been fairly young...possibly six or seven. Maybe as old as nine or ten. I'm unsure. But during the time I lived in Morley with my family, I would very occasionally watch a late-night movie on Channel 9 during a house party on our street. Logan's Run was one of these films, and I think I came into it about five or ten minutes after it started. There's not much that really stuck, but those words Logan nervously uttered, "Question: Do I get my four years back?" certainly did. 

I don't know why that resonated so much with my young self. Maybe it was the panic in Logan's face. Maybe the idea of having your life shortened was slightly terrifying. The age of thirty would have felt like it was years away at that time, which, let's face it, it was! But, say, if I was 10, then one year would have been one tenth of my life. Now that I'm 45, one year is just one forty-fifth. And don't they fly by?!

I also had memories of the colourful sets and bright clothing, but I'd forgotten that it was Jenny Agutter in the role of Jessica. Logan happens upon her by chance, but ends up connecting with her over the need to find Sanctuary. Peter Ustinov also has a small role, and rising star of the day Farrah Fawcett-Majors appears briefly, complete with THAT hairdo.

But, getting back to my original question, and the title of this blog, what is the deal? What is the excitement that is attached to this movie? Considering this was only a year before the release of Star Wars, the model work is incredibly obvious. When the movie cuts to the monorail transporting characters from place to place it looks like an amazing high school science project, but you can tell it's not real. Interestingly, the film won an Academy Award for its visual effects, particularly the 'carrousel' sequence, which employed the use of wide camera angles and hidden wires. But some of the other practical effects have not aged so well, particularly the robot Box that Logan and Jessica happen upon. It is nearly fifty years old, after all.

There is that thrill of escape that might appeal to many. It's not uncommon in a sci-fi flick for the supposed utopia we are presented with to actually be revealed as a sinister dystopia. So, when the characters try to escape their fate, you're immediately on board. It's like Plato's cave. Once you're exposed to the light, and recover from the shock, you can see what else is around. There's a small measure of delight in seeing Logan and Jessica try and make sense of a world that they never knew existed. They're like newborns in that regard.

One of Logan's Sandman contemporaries, Francis (played by Richard Jordan), starts following Logan and Jessica on their quest to find Sanctuary. His intent to catch them becomes another main plot point, adding a chase element to movie. So there's certainly enough of a story to keep you engaged. You want to know the fates of the characters, and you want to know if Sanctuary exists.

But is that movie all that? I think there is a lot to like here, but ultimately it had the potential to be something quite special. I've not read the novel the movie is based on, but I understand there are a few changes. One being that life ends for the people in the city domes at the age of twenty one, not thirty. Apparently the reason behind that change was from a casting point of view. It was going to be too difficult to have a large number of young teenage actor onset. I don't think it takes away from the story though. The notion of 'carrousel' is unique to movie as well. In the book, people on their Last Day are required to report to special booths that sedate and kill them. Or something, he he he. 

While it's certainly not 'the sexiest movie ever', there are some titilating scenes involving brief nudity and in one moment, implied homosexuality, quite bold for the mid-seventies. York and Agutter are certainly nice to look at, and the costumes are a little racy, but possibly not as racy if the movie was made today. 

Whatever motivated me to want to watch the movie again, I'm glad that I did. It gave me some moments of nostalgia, remembering watching some moments as a kid, and wondering how the movie ended all over again. Being a seventies sci-fi film, the ending is somewhat ambiguous, of course, but that adds to its overall kitschy appeal. I seemed to remember the music score being more electronically dominated, but that wasn't the case either. Jerry Goldsmith's work does use orchestral elements mixed with electronic noises and keyboards for scenes set inside the domes, but once the characters get outside the score employs a full orchestra. Nice idea. 

Anyway, in summing up, I would recommend watching the film with an open mind if you haven't seen it before. Enjoy the slightly wooden performances and dodgy effects. Enjoy the thrill of the escape and the possibility of a new life. There is certainly more that could be written, but in the end, it's entertaining and that's what the movies are all about.

Album of the Week - Vol. 20

Dreamboat Annie HEART (1975)
Week: Sun 11th to Sat 17th July
Format: CD/iPod
Producer: Mike Flicker
Track listing:
1. Magic Man *
2. Dreamboat Annie (Fantasy Child)
3. Crazy on You *
4. Soul of the Sea
5. Dreamboat Annie *
6. White Lightning & Wine
7. (Love Me Like Music) I'll Be Your Song *
8. Sing Child *
9. How Deep It Goes
10. Dreamboat Child (reprise) 
TOTAL RUNNING TIME: 40:02

This is the very solid debut album of the band Heart. Before they became a mainstay in FM radio power ballad playlists they were quite the gritty rock band. Not averse to a little bit of 70s synth work too. Their original lineup consisted of sisters Nancy and Ann Wilson, guitarist Roger Fisher, guitarist/keyboardist Howard Leese, bassist Steve Fossen and Mike Derosier on drums, although he only plays on two tracks here. 

The bulk of the album was written by the Wilsons, with Ann's outstanding lead vocals just one of the band's assets. The band wears its love of Led Zeppelin on its sleeve with Ann's voice seemingly channeling Robert Plant on occasion. This is especially on show during the Zep-esque Sing Child, which also boasts some Zep-like riffs and motifs, and interestingy is the only track co-written by Ann with Fisher and Fossen. The multi-layered vocals on the "sing, child, sing" lines are another appealing facet of the track. Nancy contributes an unexpected flute solo as well, but in a good way. There's some nice riffing and noodling on White Lightning & Wine too, and it might just get you yelling out 'more cowbell!'.

Nancy's amazing ability to get around an acoustic guitar is another massive factor in what makes Heart so great. Just listen to the intro of Crazy On You. It's crazy good. Add in Ann's crazy good vocals plus a most excellent guitar riff and you've really got something special. This is the album's absolute highlight, without a doubt. 

One of the more puzzling elements of this record is the inclusion of three different versions of the title track. There's no huge difference between them, as far as arrangement or lyric changes go. This isn't Another Brick in the Wall or anything. Did I miss something? Is this is a concept album? It's not that they're unpleasant to listen to though. The second version is certainly one of the album's better tracks, but it seems a little unnecessary to include two more takes. The first one has the parenthetical title of Fantasy Child and doesn't last much longer than a minute, whereas the reprise at the album's end nearly hits the four minute mark.  A single of Dreamboat Annie was released in late 1976, and that version is not any of the ones on this album either! Ahhh, the seventies... but I digress! The title track (no parenthesis) is my favourite of three as the banjos add a great, gentle gallop. 

Other songs I really like here are the lovely ballad (Love Me Like Music) I'll Be Your Song) and the punchy opener Magic Man. The latter is my second favourite track here in fact, complete with some seventies synth, cool guitar breaks and a fabulous lead vocal from Nancy. 

The weird thing with this album is that it was turned onto me by a former friend. The person in question shared quite a bit of music with me while we were friends. Some of that music brings a small memory of them, which I think we can all relate to. That little pang gets a bit smaller with each listen. It doesn't take away from the fact that this is a great album, and I'm glad to know it.

The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders From Mars

The album that catapulted David Bowie into super glam rock stardom celebrated its 49th anniversary a few days ago, June 16th - to be exact. In the years since its release, this record has lost none of its fervour or impact. 

On a personal note, this was the album that really kicked off my love of Bowie. I had been something of a casual fan before I was given this record on CD as a birthday present. It must have been early 2000s, methinks; the specific year I'm unsure of. The album was reissued on CD in 1999 as part of The David Bowie Series - 24 Bit Digitally Remastered range, and it's these editions that now dominate my Bowie collection. 

Furthermore, this album is also very special to me because it was the first one that I learned and performed in full to a live audience. In fact, the Wesleys just celebrated 7 years since we played this record for the then-Newport Record Club in Fremantle. Time, it marches ever on.

Having been released four years before I was born, I marvel at what a ripple this record would have sent through the world. Not only was there delicious candy for the ears to enjoy, but also a mysterious, androgynous figure delighting in blurring the lines between genders and sexuality. Someone who outsiders could identify with and take strength from. The sexual revolution of the 1960s had paved the way for experimental behaviours and with it, some sense of abandon and freedom. Before that freedom had a severe sting in the tail when the harsh consequences of unprotected sex hit in the early 1980s, this was an era were many felt they could find their true self and their own sense of identity. 

Bowie lit the way for many who felt they didn't belong anywhere, and in the creation of alien rock star Ziggy Stardust, he personified the ultimate outsider. Ziggy is lost in the rock n' roll lifestyle on a planet that only five years of life left. The opening song Five Years sets the scene beautifully with little vignettes of how different people react of this news. Not only one of favourite Bowie songs, I think it's one of my favourite album openers ever. Bookended by fading in and out drums, it's just brilliant. I love the slow build, I love the lyrics, I love the arrangements and production. What else can I say? It's tops.

Some of Bowie's best-known material from the early seventies are on this album. Starman, Suffragette City and, of course, the stunning title cut (kinda). One of the greatest Bowie songs to come out of the Ziggy era, Ziggy Stardust also has the distinction of being my wife's favourite song. Like, ever. The first time I heard the words "Now, Ziggy played guitar..." was on the TV advertisement for the new Changesbowie compilation album, around 1990. It was intercut with other snippets of songs; some I knew, some I didn't. I ended up buying a copy of it on cassette while my family and I were in Bali, and the songs from this album that appeared on that tape I then heard for the very first time.

One song from this album that has enjoyed a resurgence of popularity in recent years is Moonage Daydream, after it featured in the first Guardians of the Galaxy movie. Deservedly so, too; it's a cracker! It even found a home on 2014's Nothing Has Changed retrospective Bowie collection. Definitely a big highlight for me. Once the opening lyrics hit: "I'm an alligatorrrrr!", you're hooked and you jump on for the cosmic journey. Great stuff, with a suitably out-of-this-world guitar solo from Mick Ronson at the song's end.

Ronson would also add piano, organ, synth, backing vocals and string arrangements to this album. Along with the rhythm section of drummer Mick 'Woody' Woodmansey and bassist Trevor Bolder, Bowie had his backing band known as, you guessed it, The Spiders from Mars. A different line-up of the group without Ronson (or Bowie) released a self-titled album in 1976. Except for the uncredited harpsichord from Rick Wakeman and backing vocals from Dana Gillespie on It Ain't Easy, the whole record was the product of the Bowie and the three Spiders. 

It Ain't Easy is a bizarre choice to include on this album. Written by American songwriter Ron Davies, it sticks out like a sore thumb. It doesn't seem to fit with the album's loose narrative, and I'd have to say that it's the weakest track here as well. One wonders if it was chosen for filler, to bring the album to a decent length. But why was it picked over cracking tracks like John, I'm Only Dancing and Velvet Goldmine, which didn't find homes on an album? I think if you remove It Ain't Easy and replace it with either one or both songs this record would be even better.

Other big highlights for me include the ode to Marc Bolan, Lady Stardust and the anthemic stomper Hang On To Yourself. What a rockin' tune! Of course, another jewel in the album's crown is closing track Rock 'N' Roll Suicide, which ties every up in a neat little package. Bowie's rousing delivery of "Oh no, love, you're not alone" is one of his most iconic moments. When the strings signal the end of the song, and with it the album, you feel like you've gone on some kind of journey. Whether you feel thankful that you're not a dead alien rock star or not on a planet doomed to live for only five more years, you can certainly be thankful for the music.

I give this 4.5/5 and I will no doubt listen to it again. 

NEXT UP: Tonight - September 1st

(yes, quite the gap now, huh? I'll have to blog about something else in the interim)

Heathen

One of only four studio albums that Bowie released this century, Heathen turns 19 today. Seen by many as a return to form after 1999's meandering Hours..., this record boasts some of Bowie's strongest late-era material. It was Bowie's highest charting album in the US since Tonight in 1984. The cover artwork is quite striking as well, but good covers don't necessarily equate to good records. I'm looking at you, Aladdin Sane! He he he...

The album is bookended by two excellent Bowie numbers, Sunday and the title track, Heathen (The Rays). Both rely on creating unsettling sonic landscapes, and are fairly simple and unassuming...but effective. They were also regularly performed during Bowie's A Reality Tour in 2003/04. The record opener seems to be constantly leading up to some sort of crescendo, and when it finally arrives the track fades out. Interestingly, the song contains the lyric "nothing has changed" which was the title given to Bowie's 2014 compilation sets. 

There are three cover versions on this album, and I only really like one of them. I'm not much of a Pixies fan, and his go at Cactus does little to change that. The Legendary Stardust Cowboy song I Took a Trip on a Gemini Spaceship also gets  an airing; an obvious tip of the hat to a hugely influential performer for Bowie (who inspired the name Ziggy Stardust). However, the track itself is underwhelming and comes across as album filler. The cover of Neil Young's I've Been Waiting For You is fantastic, and I love what Bowie and co. did with it. The original track appeared on Young's 1968 self-titled debut album, and while it had a quiet menace about it, this version puts that emotion front-and-centre. Understandably, the song was released as a single in Young's native Canada. Also, it has Dave Grohl playing guitar on it!

Heathen was produced in an era of CD dominated releases, so there was no real need to worry about its sides. Having procured the vinyl edition earlier this year, I was pleasantly surprised by how well the flipping of the record serves the album. Ending the first side with that Young cover is excellent. It's quite a good closer, but gives a great sense of 'we'll be right back'. The second side starts with I Would Be Your Slave, an almost deliberate juxtaposition in tone from the track proceeding it. In an interview with Michael Parkinson, Bowie revealed ...Slave to be his favourite cut on the album. While not my favourite, it's still a good one, benefiting from some excellent bass work from co-producer Tony Visconti.

Speaking of bass work, the wonderful Tony Levin guest basses on album highlight Slip Away. A great track that reminisces about The Uncle Floyd Show, an American variety/comedy TV program that ran from 1974 to 1998. Not something I'd ever heard of until this song came along, to be honest. That doesn't take away from the melancholic longing felt throughout the song though. 

Getting back to sides of the record, I feel that the second half is stronger. Aside from the aforementioned LSC cover, it's all killer. Two of my big favourites follow, 5:15 Angels Have Gone and Everyone Says 'Hi', and I rate them both as some of Bowie's best work of the 21st century. The former is a great showcase for Bowie's vocals and in the hands of other artists, the latter could have been written off as poppy schmaltz. The first time I heard it, I felt a big grin on my face. The song just makes me feel happy. Other highlights on this album for me are the first single Slow Burn (featuring Pete Townshend on lead guitar) and the penultimate 
A Better Future.

The bulk of the music is performed by Bowie, Visconti, guitarist David Torn and drummer Matt Chamberlain. Contributions also came from musicians who would go on to be in his band for the A Reality Tour, namely guitarist Gerry Leonard and drummer Stirling Campbell. The wonderful string arrangements are performed by The Scorchio Quartet, and the brass comes courtesy of The Borneo Horns. Old mate Carlos Alomar turns up on a couple of tracks, and session muso Lisa Germano adds some violin.

All in all, the good definitely outweighs the bad, and this album is one of the strongest offerings in Bowie's catalog. I give this 4/5, and I just listened to it again!

NEXT UP: The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders From Mars - June 16th (ish)

Diamond Dogs

Bowie's eighth studio album turned 47 years old just a few days ago (24th May). It is the first record of his to not feature Mick Ronson since 1970's The Man Who Sold The World. Also absent are the other members of Ziggy Stardust's band The Spiders from Mars, bassist (and sideburn enthusiast) Trevor Bolder and drummer Mick 'Woody' Woodmansey. The rhythm section on Diamond Dogs consists of legendary session bass player Herbie Flowers and the excellent Aynsley Dunbar on the drums, who had played with Bowie the previous year on his covers album Pin Ups. Dunbar also played with Frank Zappa for much of the early 70s as part of the new Mothers line-up(s). Drummer Tony Newman also contributes and Mike Garson continues to keep his spot as Bowie's keyboardist. 

This album also sees Bowie handling all of the guitar duties. Something I was not aware of until quite recently. It was an offhand remark from a fellow behind the bar at a gig that made me dig out my copy and read the liner notes. Bugger me, he was right! Guitarist Alan Parker (not the film director) does splash some wah-wah magic onto the track 1984, and has also been credited with adding the last three notes to the riff of Rebel Rebel. In addition to the guitar, Bowie plays saxophone, Mellotron and Moog synthesiser as well. Except for Rock 'n' Roll With Me, which was co-written with Geoff McCormack (AKA Warren Peace), Bowie penned all of the album's songs.

I've never really held this album in high esteem, partly because I never really dug the title track, which initially put me off the record as a whole. While I like it a little more now, it's far from my favourite Bowie song. However, the record itself has grown on me considerably in recent years, partly because of my 'late-to-the-party' fondness for the Sweet Thing/Candidate/Sweet Thing (reprise) suite. The aforementioned wah guitar on 1984 certainly helps too. 

Diamond Dogs is the last glam rock album Bowie recorded, and the end of the Ziggy Stardust persona (despite a very Ziggy-esque looking human/dog hybrid appearing on the cover). A possible new character is revealed as Halloween Jack in the title track, but it's not someone who remains part of the album's loose concept. Bowie had intended to create a musical version of George Orwell's novel 1984, but was shut down by Orwell's widow. Some of the ashes of this project remain in the form of the songs 1984 and Big Brother. 

Similarly to the Ziggy Stardust album opener Five Years, Diamond Dogs begins with the brief mood-setting, and somewhat unsettling, Future Legend. Basically, it's an eerie monologue with creepy sounds and effects that gives way to the noise of a live audience and the famous shouted line: "This ain't rock 'n' roll...this is genocide!". After the semi-classic title track we are treated to, in my opinion, the best moment of the record, Sweet Thing.

What a song! It's become of my quintessential Bowie tracks. I love how it starts with a fairly slow musical build, adding to its theatrical feel. Bowie delivers the opening line in a lower register, teeming with quiet menace: "It's safe in the city/To love in a doorway", conjuring up images of depravity, and an ominous sense of what the futuristic metropolis where the album takes place must feel like. When Bowie jumps up an octave, it gives me goosebumps every time! That chorus gets stuck in my head from time to time too. Watching Bernard Fowler perform Sweet Thing/Candidate/Sweet Thing (reprise) on the livestreamed A Bowie Celebration in January this year was absolutely amazing. His rendition captured the spirit of Bowie, but he made it his own at the same time. That moment was my absolute highlight of the whole show.

While Sweet Thing works quite well on its own, the following Candidate and reprise don't so much. Repeating themes and lyrics from the former, they need to be heard as a whole suite to work. One wonders why it wasn't just one big track. Like when Silverchair had Those Thieving Birds pt1/Strange Behaviour/Those Thieving Birds pt2 as one song on 2007's excellent Young Modern album. If you have the Diamond Dogs album on your iPod or favourites playlist on a streaming service, it's a little jarring to hear Candidate away from the Sweet Thing(s). Minor quibble, but there you go.

The first side ends with the bonafide classic Rebel Rebel, delivering one of the most satisfying 'Side A's in the Bowie catalogue. Things get a little hit and miss from here on the flip side. Rock 'n' Roll With Me and We Are the Dead aren't anything sensational, with the former arguably being the least interesting track on the album. I do quite like 1984 and Big Brother though, and one wonders what Bowie would have come up with, had his Orwellian musical been able to reach fruition. 1984 has an almost pre-disco feel and the anthemic chorus sounds like it indeed belongs in a musical. 

The short final track Chant of the Ever Circling Skeletal Family is not much more than repeated bursts of 'shake it up' or 'move it up' or 'brother/bro'. Maybe it was somehow tied to the 1984 narrative, but it's an odd way to end the album. Bizarrely, I find the song's title more creative and entertaining than the actual track.

Anyway, while the album's loose concept doesn't really come off, there is a sense of a dingy, apocalyptic world in the future. There is a lot to like here, and I will offer up the controversial opinion that it's more listenable than Aladdin Sane. 

So, I give this 3.5/5 and will be listening to some parts quite a bit in the future. He he he..

NEXT UP: Heathen - June 11th