Be kind. That's it.

I'm seeing more signs like this in shops and drive throughs around Perth, and it makes me very sad. Why do people need a reminder to be nice and treat others with respect? What really chills me is imagining what some customer service employees have been subjected to. What events have transpired to motivate management to make and display a sign to tell (potential) customers to mind their manners? 

Are we becoming angrier or less patient as a society? Is technology to blame? Are we becoming accustomed to some processes of daily life taking less time and expecting other areas to follow suit? The world is in a fair bit of turmoil at the moment, and I have no doubt that COVID-19 with its restrictions, border closures and deaths are making many feel stressed and anxious about the future. However, feeling stressed is not a license to take out your frustrations on the next person you interact with. 

The strife and chaos in headlines at home and around the world are enough to fill the average person with dread and anger. The sexual abuse of women in Parliament House, Aboriginal deaths in custody, people struggling to find housing, the senseless killing of George Floyd, the bungled COVID-19 vaccination roll-out in Australia, the devastation of Kalbarri by Cyclone Seroja, the rising instances of domestic violence, to name but a few. While watching the news, I think I usually let out at least one audible 'far out' during a viewing. There's an anger, and also a sense of fear, that is permeating through more and more people. 

I was shocked, but not entirely surprised, with the incredibly high amount of shootings in the US recently. Over 20 separate incidents across the country in the last month or so. That's a very scary statistic. Americans must be scared to leave their house! I know I would be! It would be so hard to send your children to school.

But, on a local unarmed front, why are more people letting fly at those trying to serve them? Why was there a need for the 'No One Deserves a Serve' ads around Christmas time? Having worked in retail in the past, I know that customers can be fickle or difficult, but I don't think I ever got abused. Christmas can be a stressful time of year for many people, and getting everything sorted for the holiday period seems to bring out the worst in some. We all get frustrated when things don't go the way we hope or plan, but what makes someone throw manners and courtesy to the side and just let spray. No consideration for the other person's feelings (or in extreme cases, well-being). No care if the person they're addressing is personally responsible for the issue or not. No concern of who sees them blow their stack. 

What goes through someone's brain to think it's okay to unload all their frustrations onto a complete stranger? Is it the lack of ramification? Knowing that there will be minimal consequences, while hiding behind 'the customer is always right'? Maybe my past as a retail worker makes me more empathetic towards people in customer service. I hate seeing people being rude to those that are employed to serve them. Those who feel some are beneath them. It's horrible to see that contempt. There's an old saying that you can judge a person's character by how they treat others who can't do anything for them. Or something like that.

Another disturbing trend of late is bagging out movies or TV shows that aren't exactly what fans expect. Or abusing actors online because they don't like what their character is doing in their favourite program. Sometimes the fact that the character even exists is an affront to the person with the issue. Or chewing out directors or writer or producers for 'ruining their childhood' with the latest offering of a franchise. I totally understand being disappointed by a film or an episode of something, and I have myself expressed those feelings online. However, I've never targeted a particular individual and subjected them to various outpourings of venom and vitriol. 

One fairly recent example of this was what was happening to Wyatt Russell, who starred in Disney+'s recent The Falcon and the Winter Soldier streaming TV series. He portrayed the role of John Walker, the new Captain America. Rather than separate the person from the character, Russell himself received death threats and his social media accounts were being bullied. Russell is not actually on those platforms, and it was the fake accounts that were inadvertently being targeted. 

Apparently, Russell has taken these barbs in his stride, enjoying the fact that people have hated Walker (or 'fake Captain America') as much as they have. That was the point. You weren't supposed to like him. Russell's so good at his craft that he made people angry at him. But it's a TV show! It's not real! What makes someone go, 'Dang, I hate this character! I'm going to abuse the actor bringing it to life'. I was horrified when I learnt what some 'fans' of Star Wars did to Kelly Marie Tran, who played Rose in Episode VIII - The Last Jedi. Such was the abuse she was subjected to, she deleted her Instagram posts and left social media entirely. Not only did they criticise the character, some felt compelled to attack the actor's performance, and others made comments of a personal nature. Who wants to be exposed to horrible racial trolling on a daily basis? No one.

In the age we live in, it's so much easier to interact with celebrities, and in some cases, that's not a good thing. For all the lovely messages of support and encouragement famous people receive on social media, there's almost certainly a percentage of nasty and toxic ones. 

I don't have any solutions or answers to the questions I've posed, but I felt like expressing my feelings. We're all in this thing together, and no one is getting out of here alive. So, while we're sharing the planet with one another, let's remember our manners. Let's think of other people. I had the hypothetical idea a while ago that The Meaning Of Life was to learn to live together in harmony. It costs nothing to be polite or civil. No one really knows what is going on in someone else's life, particularly a stranger's. 

Be kind. That's it.

I'll leave the final words of this post to the frontman of The Church, Mr Steve Kilbey. In a recent interview with X-Press Magazine he expressed regret at his actions as a younger musician, feeling that being aloof and difficult was the wrong way to handle success. "It was a mistake. I should have been a nicer person all along. Being a nice person is the best thing in life and I didn’t understand that." 

Nuff said.

Never Let Me Down

Generally seen by many as the nadir of Bowie's output, Never Let Me Down celebrates its 34th birthday today. Released at the height of 80s excess, this album has some truly baffling moments. The cover being an obvious one, but the biggest of which is probably Mickey Rourke delivering a 'rap' on Shining Star (Makin' My Love) - true story! It sits at an interesting point in Bowie's career; his second album after 1983's smash Let's Dance and his last before forming Tin Machine. The record marks the first time Bowie played an instrument on an album of his since 1980's Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps), picking up the guitar and keys again.

It's worth noting that while Bowie had enjoyed massive worldwide success in the wake of the Let's Dance album (and the subsequent Serious Moonlight tour in 1983), he was also appearing on the big screen fairly regularly. From 1983 to 1986, Bowie starred in no less than six movies, including Labyrinth, Absolute Beginners and Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence. This heavy workload could be a factor in the decline of the quality of some of his output in the eighties. 

Amongst Bowie's band are old mate Carlos Alomar on guitar, bassist Carmine Rojas, Phillipe Saisse on piano, percussionist Errol "Crusher" Bennett and Robin Clark returns on backing vocals alongside Diva Gray, Lani Groves and Gordon Grody. Clark did contribute to Bowie's previous effort Tonight, but up until that point she had not been on a recording of his since 1975's Young Americans. Multi-instrumentalist Erdal Kızılçay makes his first appearance on a Bowie album here as well, playing keyboards, drums, violin, trumpet as well as doing a bit of bass work and backing vocals. Renowned session muso Sid McGinnis plays lead guitar on three tracks, and Peter Frampton(!) also adds some guitar and sitar to the proceedings. 

I haven't spent a lot of time with this record over the years. I think I have only ever listened to it in full once or twice. So, it's been an interesting one to revisit. The first two tracks, Day-In Day-Out and Time Will Crawl are fairly enjoyable, and catchy enough to sing along to. Both songs were released as singles with the former managing to break the Top 20 in the UK, and the Top 5 in Sweden and Finland though. Depending on which chart you look at, Day-In Day-Out cracked the Top 5 in the US as well. Deeply entrenched in the eighties production styles of the era, both these songs are arguably the album's highlights. Even the next track following those two, Beat of Your Drum is fairly listenable, although its main hook is very reminiscent of Springsteen's Glory Days and the lyrics are less than subtle: "I'd like to beat on your drum/I'll like to blow on your horn". 

The title track, co-written with Alomar, was also released as a single, and is a pleasant enough track. Featuring some harmonica lines from Bowie himself, the vocal take was apparently influenced by John Lennon, with the song an expression of gratitude to Bowie's PA Coco Schwab. As with most of the album, a subtler approach to the track's production could have brought its nuances to the fore, rather than bury them with noise. Rather than simply being a nice listen, it could have really been something. The single would be the last original solo Bowie release until 1992. 

Bowie's penchant for the theatrical gets an airing with Glass Spider, another cluttered track with an opening monologue. The song would give its name to the next tour he would embark on. That's about as memorable as it gets. The rest of the album is a mishmash of overproduced eighties pop that buries much of its potential by eating itself. 

It's certainly a product of the era it appeared in. While it isn't a brilliant offering from Bowie, it's not all bad. Unfortunately, the bad outweighs the good. I give this 2/5. May not listen again.

NEXT UP: Lodger - May 18th *

EPILOGUE: Apparently Bowie was dissatisfied with how this album came out and wanted to re-record it with Reeves Gabrels shortly after they went 1987. This notion was flirted with a lot over the years, and while it never eventuated in his lifetime. In 2008, Mario J. McNulty remixed Time Will Crawl for an iSelect compilation, and Bowie is said to have remarked that he should do the whole Never Let Me Down album while was at it. So it came to pass that a new remixed and re-recorded version of the record was released in October 2018, some 31 years after the fact. The sessions were produced by McNulty with musicians including Gabrels, Sterling Campbell, David Torn, Nico Muhly, Tim Lefebvre and Laurie Anderson. Bowie's original vocals were kept intact, as well as other minor musical elements. Never Let Me Down 2018 was released as a separate album, and was also part of the Loving the Alien (1983-1988) box set. As yet, I have not released to it.

* I was bedridden with a back injury, and missed the 18th May release date. Got there in the end!

Let's Dance

When I was a kid my dad had a taped copy of this album. I have a feeling the other side of the cassette had Queen's Hot Space on it. Ahhh, the early eighties. This was the record that pushed Bowie into super-duper stardom. Add to that the boom of MTV, the rise of the video clip, and Bowie was everywhere! You could write a decent post purely on the impact the Let's Dance video had at the time. It's hard to believe that today marks 38 years since the arrival of Let's Dance. Well, maybe not that hard, but my my, the time do fly!

Indeed some of my first Bowie experiences were with songs from this album. You couldn't escape the first three singles on the radio or the TV. The only earlier Bowie tune I remember before this album was Ashes to Ashes, and I would have been four years old when that was released. I have vivid memories of watching the clown in slow motion on Countdown in our old lounge room in Morley. 

Let's Dance was, and remains, Bowie's biggest selling album, hitting the No.1 position on charts around the world. The following Serious Moonlight Tour ran from May to December of 1983, and played throughout Europe, North America, Asia, Australia and New Zealand. Bowie spent half a month in the country of Japan, where his popularity was at a career peak. He even played three shows at the Perth Entertainment Centre in November of that year. I think I remember black and white posters in the Sunday Times or the West advertising the concerts. I was living in Albany at that point, and wasn't the Bowie fan that I am now. And I would have been seven years old and short on cash and transport, he he he.

But, let's take a look at the album. Co-produced by Bowie with Nile Rodgers, this is one of the few Bowie records where he doesn't play an instrument. The band assembled for the studio sessions include Carmine Rojas on bass, Robert Sabino on keys, the double drumming attack of Omar Hakim and Tony Thompson, percussionist Sammy Figuera, oh, and some guy called Stevie Ray Vaughan on lead guitar. There was also a powerful horn section and backing vocalists a-plenty. 

The very first noise we hear is that of SRV's guitar as Modern Love kicks the record off. His distinctive sound and style adds a lot to the early eighties production, and some songs have aged well; while others have not. The first three songs, Modern Love, China Girl and the title track, were also the first three singles of the record. They also form the strongest part of the album. The fourth and last single, Without You, is largely overlooked, but it's not a bad track. It's just hard for anything here to stack up against those three songs. Interestlingly, it's not Rojas on the bass, but Bernard Edwards, who co-formed Chic with Rodgers. 

The quality of the songs dips somewhat on the second half; or side, depending on your format. Cat People (Putting Out Fire) was originally recorded for the soundtrack of the 1982 film The Hunger, which also starred Bowie. Apparently, he wasn't happy with how it came out, hence it's re-recorded appearance here. I initially preferred this version, but after seeing its use in Inglourious Basterds, I now like the original better. Richochet and Shake It are pleasant enough to listen to, the former using some interesting syncopation, but the latter comes across as pure filler. The only cover is a version of Metro's 1977 song Criminal World, which seems to be a baffling choice, for mine.

When this record came out that I started to realise there were album versions and single versions of the same song. The version of Let's Dance on my dad's cassette was longer than the one I saw on TV. I didn't know that was a thing that record companies had started doing. Obviously, songs were commonly cut to either fit radio formats (Billy Joel's Piano Man was famously edited down on its initial release) or TV spots, but I was largely unaware until this album. Bizarre to think that is one of the memories I associate with Let's Dance. I also remembering wondering what the heck 'serious moonlight' was. In fact, I still wonder. He he he...

I give this 3/5. Would dabble a little again.

NEXT UP: Never Let Me Down - 27th April

Aladdin Sane

Now, just to warn you, I'm not overly fond of this album. There are some songs here that Bowie fans absolutely lose their minds over, but I just don't. Probably only a handful of tracks here really grab me; and as an album, it's one that I very rarely listen to in full. Referred to by many as "Ziggy Goes to America", Aladdin Sane features one of Bowie's most iconic album covers. That awesome red and blue lightning bolt over his face, the bright red hair, the bare shoulders with some sort of liquid dripping from his clavicle (a misplaced teardrop?). But, the music contained within the record doesn't excite me like it does others. I know people who would name this as their favourite Bowie album, or at least put in their Top 5, but it wouldn't land in my Top 10. 

Bowie returned to the studio with the Spiders from Mars band members, multi-instrumentalist Mick Ronson, bassist Trevor Bolder and Mick Woodmansey on the drums. This album is also notable for being the first appearance of Mike Garson, who would go on to play piano on many more Bowie records. 

Released 48 years ago today, it seems like a good reason to have another listen, track by track and let my mind fully absorb what I hear. Or something. I ended up spinning it twice, once on CD, and once on my iPod when I walked our dog Zappa. 

1. WATCH THAT MAN
This is song that took a while to grow on me. I just didn't 'get it'. The opening chords seemed liked they were thrown together rather than written for a song. But, there's a vibe there. Once you tune in, there's an energy that is quite contagious and it's like a party is seeping out of the speakers when it plays. I wouldn't be surprised if it was a big influence on the Rocky Horror musical production choices. 

2. ALADDIN SANE (1913-1938-197?)
The title track, a pun on 'a lad insane', is one of the most experimental pieces of music Bowie had recorded at that point. Featuring a fairly avant-garde solo from Garson on the piano, this song also doesn't really land for me either. I like the 'uh uh uh uh, uh ah' bits though. And Mike Garson's piano work is sublime. 

3. DRIVE-IN SATURDAY
Another song that I just don't get. It was on the Bowie Singles Collection 1 CD I grabbed a copy of when I was a teen, and I would always skip it. I became aware of how popular it was when Rhones and I (and friends) went to one of Bowie's shows at Rod Laver Arena in Melbourne, early 2004. If memory serves around three or four member felt compelled to yell out a request for it. Each time it happened I was floored. "Really? That one?" It's possibly quite nostalgic for those who remember watching the types of movies he's describing at the drive-in. My memories of that medium were in Albany as a pre-teen, catching the latest Bond movie with my family. Or before that, a rain soaked screening of E.T. which either bored or scared me depending on the scene (I like the film much more now). I do enjoy going to the Galaxy Drive-In now though. Let's get that straight. Just not this song so much.

4. PANIC IN DETROIT
Now, this is a track I probably shouldn't like. The first time I heard it, I was less than impressed. While it has grown on me considerably in the last few years, I feel that it is far from a classic. However, I really enjoy the percussive element and Bolder's descending bass line is quite hooky too.

5. CRACKED ACTOR
Another song I'm not a big fan of. At the risk of repeating myself (too late!), I just don't get it. The chorus comes across as half-baked and the outro goes on for too long as well. It seems like the song's mission was to just titilate with some outrageous lyrics and crank out a bit of noisy guitar. 

6. TIME
If there's a shining centre in the universe of this album, for me, this is it. From the German music hall feel of the opening twinkling piano to the rousing multi-layered vocals at the song's end, this is five minutes of Bowie bliss. Some of my favourite Bowie lyrics are here too: "Time, he flexes like a whore/Falls wanking to the floor" and "Oh, well I look at my watch, it says nine twenty five/And I think 'Oh God, I'm still alive'". The former couplet, however profane, sums up the fickleness of time itself. We can be swayed by its promises, but we end up realising that time is actually self-serving. Bowie's vocal performance is among his best here as well. I just love it. Can't praise it enough.

7. THE PRETTIEST STAR
A guitar riff that never ends. A less-than-catchy chorus. A meandering melody. Yeah, nah. I think it was meant to be T. Rex-esque, but it doesn't land for me. 

8. LET'S SPEND THE NIGHT TOGETHER
As cover versions go, I don't mind this. There's an excitement here that is somewhat absent from the original. Or maybe, it's just that the energy level here is so high that it makes the Stones' performance seem a little lacklustre. Whether it's Garson's furious piano playing or Bowie's frenetic vocal delivery, it just wants to grab you by the ears! Bowie sounds like Frank N. Furter before the character even existed, and Mick Ronson's furious guitar screeches are out of this world.

9. THE JEAN GENIE
Arguably the most famous song on the album, and an absolute stone-cold Bowie classic track. Nuff said.

10. LADY GRINNING SOUL
Another song that seems to resonate deeply with Bowie fans, but again, I don't get it. Even after a couple of listens today, I'm not swayed.

I give this 2.5/5. Won't rush to listen again, but I probably will.

NEXT UP: Let's Dance - 14th April

Black Tie White Noise

The first Bowie studio album after the rise and fall of Tin Machine has been somewhat unfairly maligned, in my opinion. So, on this day, the 28th anniversary of its release, I take a look back. This was the album that made me start paying attention again, and I joined what Q Magazine called the small group of people who still listened to Bowie after 1983. 

I was working in a music shop in Albany when I first heard this album. My boss there quite liked the cover of Cream's I Feel Free, so the CD got the odd spin on the inhouse system. Up until that point, my knowledge and exposure to Bowie was very much confined to the hits. The only albums of his I owned were compilations. 

Through being exposed to this CD on numerous occasions, I eventually became enamoured enough to purchase a copy. While not one of his better efforts, I still think it's a decent listen. The good definitely outweighs the bad, in my opinion, and I feel that this is more listenable than 1987's Never Let Me Down, 1995's 1. Outside, 1973's Pin Ups or even the second half of Let's Dance. I might be wrong here, but I think Bowie plays more saxophone on this record than any of his other ones. 

I really like the way it starts and ends with the same song, The Wedding (Song); albeit the opener is instrumental and the closing features vocals. It now seems to be a tip of the hat to 1980's Scary Monsters... being bookended by It's No Game parts 1 and 2. Apparently Bowie wrote it for his wedding ceremony when he and Iman married in April 1992. Another track here, Pallas Athena, was also written for their ceremony. The riots in L.A. after the Rodney King verdict were a big inspiration for the title track, and Bowie collaborated with American singer/songwriter Albert Joseph Brown III (AKA Al B. Sure!) on it. It's one of my favourite songs on the album, and I still think it holds up pretty well.

The aforementioned Cream cover and the record's first single Jump They Say have strong connections to Bowie's step-brother Terry. The latter is loosely about him being hospitalised with schizophrenia, and tragically, committing suicide. Bowie took Terry to a Cream concert in the late sixties, and during their rendition of I Feel Free, Terry started feeling very uneasy and eventually collapsed on the ground when they got outside. Bowie had starting working addressing his feelings surrounding Terry's death, and saw these songs as a way of moving forward. I Feel Free also has the notable distinction of including guitarist Mick Ronson, his first appearance on a Bowie album since Pin Ups. Ronson would unfortunately pass away shortly after this record's release. Also from Bowie's past comes Nile Rodgers, who not only co-produced the album, but co-wrote the instrumental track Looking for Lester. 

You've Been Around was written by Bowie and guitarist Reeves Gabrels while they were still part of Tin Machine, and is an okay track. While this is the only song to feature Gabrels in this album, he would become a big part of Bowie's 90s output. Indeed some of the songs here feel like a stepping stone between Tin Machine and 1. Outside or Earthling, particularly Pallas Athena. Other highlights for me include Don't Let Me Down & Down and the almost melodramatically performed cover of Morrisey's I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday. 

While the sound of the album is certainly a product of being made in the early nineties, I feel that time has been fairly kind to this record. It was during this period that Bowie started experimenting with CD-ROM including music videos and an interactive experience that would allow the user to remix some of the songs from the album. Although not received well, or being an accurate release of what Bowie envisaged, many artists in the 90s would use CD-ROM features on their new albums with mixed success.

I give this album 3/5. Would listen again, as I have done over nearly thirty years.

NEXT UP: Aladdin Sane - 13th April

Album of the Week - Vol. 19

Hitchhiker NEIL YOUNG (2017)
Week: Friday 26th March to Thursday 1st April
Format: Vinyl
Producer(s): Neil Young, David Briggs & John Hanlon
Track listing:
1. Pocahontas *
2. Powderfinger *
3. Captain Kennedy
4. Hawaii
5. Give Me Strength *
6. Ride My Llama
7. Hitchhiker *
8. Campaigner
9. Human Highway *
10. The Old Country Waltz
TOTAL RUNNING TIME: 33:44

Recorded in a single studio session on 11th August 1976, Neil Young's intent to release these songs as an album took 41 years to come to fruition. At the time, his record company (Reprise) baulked at the idea, and suggested full band arrangements for each of the tracks. More fool them. This is stripped to bare basics, and it's fantastic. Just Neil with his guitar and harmonica, except for the last song which is performed on a piano. It reminds me of Nick Drake's similarly stark Pink Moon, and both have the same fault of being too short. 

Except for Hawaii and Give Me Strength, all of these songs would appear on subsequent NY albums. The most recent occurrence being the title track, which was recorded in solo electric form for the 2010 album Le Noise, produced by Daniel Lanois. While it doesn't have the menace and growl of the newer version, this incarnation of Hitchhiker does still manage to be unnerving and imbued with small sense of paranoia. 

Three of these songs would arrive on 1979's excellent Rust Never Sleeps album, namely Pocahontas, Powderfinger and Ride My Llama. The former exists almost in the same form, but has a new vocal overdub. The latter is rerecorded before a live audience (as is the spirit of most of the album), but has a slightly different structure. Powderfinger is performed with Crazy Horse as part of the electric half of the album and is one of its highlights. To hear the song stripped down to its simplest form is quite something. As Paul Stanley once said of Kiss preparing for their 1996 MTV Unplugged performance, if a song doesn't work on an acoustic guitar, it's just a crappy song. Nothing more is needed here to express the emotion of the track. Wood, wire, skin and bones, as it were.

Human Highway was actually supposed to be the title track on CSNY's follow-up to their classic 1970 Déjà Vu album. There are even recordings of Young performing the song with Graham Nash and David Crosby in the mid seventies, but the record never materialised, despite their massive 1974 stadium tour. The world wouldn't get a second CSNY album until 1988's patchy American Dream. Human Highway was eventually recorded for Young's 1978 Comes A Time album, the closest relative to his Harvest smash. Again, hearing it here stripped of backing vocals and a band arrangement is like listening with fresh ears. I think I prefer this version to any other I've heard.

This take of Campaigner would see a release on Young's retrospective Decade in 1977, albeit with a verse removed, and Captain Kennedy shows up on 1980's Hawks & Doves as heard here. Both songs feel like they belong on this album. The former was one of a handful of unreleased songs to be included on Decade, and possibly was chosen due to its then-timely lyric stating that "even Richard Nixon has got soul". 

The album ends with The Old Country Waltz, played by Young on the piano, a far cry from the shambolic take with Crazy Horse on 1977's unfocused American Stars 'n Bars. In my mind, this is the weakest track here, but it is still very listenable, and I much prefer this version to the band one. Hawaii is probably the only other contender for that title, but again, is still quite good. When Young sings the title in the chorus his falsetto is eerie and unsettling. 

This leave us with Give Me Strength, which I really dig, and like Hawaii, I had not heard before. It's quite a nice song about loss and trying to move on, and I think it's a shame it was never revisited or released before this came out. There are a few flubs on the track, and that might be a reason it stayed in the vault, but I think it adds to the song's charm, and as result, the whole album.

The biggest travesty here is that the album stayed on the shelf for so long. It's a wonderful look into the mind of Young who was just coming out of his so-called 'Ditch trilogy' period and starting to look ahead. The deaths of Crazy Horse singer/guitarist Danny Whitten and roadie Bruce Berry affected Young profoundly, and had a cathartic effect on the music he produced following their passings. Here he seems a little dazed still, but trying to fight through the fog, and carry on. I'm so glad that he did. I first listened to this album shortly after its release via the excellent Neil Young Archives. Obtaining a copy on vinyl by the time I decided I wanted to own it proved a challenge, but good things come to those who persist!