Young Americans turns 50

This month marks the fiftieth anniversary of Bowie's blue-eyed soul effort, Young Americans. Mostly recorded in Philadelphia, the album features a cracking band including Carlos Alomar on guitar, Mike Garson on piano, Willie Weeks on bass and Andy Newmark on drums. Some songs have different musicians on them, but that's the core group, along with those distinctive saxophone bursts from David Sanborn and the powerhouse backing vocals of Ava Cherry, Robin Clark and Luther Vandross. 

I've always felt the album was a little flawed, and that it could have been a much more cohesive affair. I think one of the biggest missteps is the awful cover of The Beatles' Across the Universe, which even features John Lennon playing on it. Their collaboration with Alomar on the closing track, and second single, Fame is soooo good. It's such a shame they couldn't capture that lightning in a bottle again. Those sessions took place in New York City, and contributing musicians included Earl Slick on guitar, drummer Dennis Davis and bassist Emir Kassan. In fact, it was those NYC sessions that made Bowie restructure his original release, which was going to be called The Gouster. Tony Visconti was reportedly mixing the album when he got a phone call from Bowie saying that he'd written and recorded Fame with Lennon, and it had to be on the new record. Several tracks from that lost album would surface as bonus tracks on reissues or special editions of Young Americans, but The Gouster would not be commercially available until the Who Can I Be Now? (1974-1976) box set, issued in 2016.  

Anyway, I've been wanting to reconstruct the Young Americans tracklisting into a better album and include some outtakes and an oddity or two. Firstly, Across the Universe is gone, kaput. I also think that Fame should appear earlier in the album, not close it. But should Fame be there at all? It wasn't included in the Philly sessions and wasn't on the original tracklisting of the album. Yes. Yes, it should. Debating whether to include either Win or Can You Hear Me?, as I don't think much of them. And, where should I put the title track? Keep it at the beginning, or follow the format of The Gouster and have it halfway through? Should I also include Who Can I Be Now? and It's Gonna Be Me, which popped up on said special editions? I think that It's Gonna Be Me is quite similar to Can You Hear Me? as far as feel and theme go, but I like the way it rises and falls. Yeah, that would make it a more interesting listen. Maybe towards the end of the album.

An outtake from Young Americans, After Today, is a dead cert. I can't believe it got bumped off! Such a funky groove with an excellent bass-line. It's not on the Spottersfy though, but the track was included on the Sound+Vision box set in 1989. Try and track it down, if you can. A big factor in album structure back then was the limitations of the vinyl format. Obviously, the running time is the most restrictive element, but apparently things like noise level and tone get compromised the longer a record runs. There was some issue with bass that stopped Peter Gabriel from putting In Your Eyes at the end of 1986's monster album So. Recent reissues and deluxe editions have rectified this. Young Americans only has eight tracks, and The Gouster only had seven. I think I'll extend the running order out to ten songs. Sounds like a good idea to me.

A tough one for me was whether or not to include Bowie's cover of It's Hard to Be a Saint in the City by Bruce Springsteen. It was initially recorded for Diamond Dogs in 1974, and was attempted again during the Young Americans sessions. It remained unreleased until it was issued on the aforementioned Sound+Vision box set, stating it was a Station to Station outtake. This claim has been argued by that album's producer Harry Maslin and guitarist Carlos Alomar, who both say that it wasn't recorded at that time. Others suggest that the released version is more than likely from the Diamond Dogs sessions, albeit with some overdubs. The second attempt apparently never eventuated into anything more than a backing track without vocals. The story goes that Bowie abandoned his second try after meeting Springsteen in person at the studio he was working in. 

I toyed with including Bowie's live cover of Knock on Wood as well, as it was the B side on the US Young Americans single. I saw it as a bit of a precursor to the soul and funk exploration he was about to embark on. It's more of a prequel rather than something I should incorporate, methinks. After repeated listens of Young Americans, and the unreleased album The Gouster, here's what I came up with. There's no wrong or right here, just my own personal faves and a nice flow. 

1. Fame (Yeah, get that bad boy right up front...)

2. Somebody Up There Likes Me (The Gouster version)

3. Right (YA version)

4. After Today 

5. Young Americans (Yep, this is a different tracklisting, after all...)

6. Who Can I Be Now? 

7. Fascination  

8. It's Hard to Be a Saint in the City (That Springsteen cover, why not?)

9. It's Gonna Be Me  

10. John, I'm Only Dancing (Again) 

I would imagine the split between sides would occur after Young Americans fades out. I think it would work well. Whereas both Young Americans and The Gouster have a roughly forty minute running time (freaky, huh?), my ten track playlist hits fifty. You're welcome!

I can't remember exactly when I heard John, I'm Only Dancing (Again), but I liked it immediately. I think it would polarise Bowie fans, as it is quite different from the original John, I'm Only Dancing 1972 single. In fact, it bears little resemblance apart from some lyrics. It's relentless too, nudging the seven minute mark, but hey, it works for me! It was included on Bowie's 1974 tours and recorded for Young Americans, as it made the grade for The Gouster, but not YA. It didn't received an official release until it was issued as single in 1979, after disco had arguably peaked. 

While it's been fun to revisit Young Americans and The Gouster, neither would be among my fondest Bowie albums. Interestingly, Bowie's subsequent record, Station to Station, released in January 1976 (like me!) is possibly my favourite offering from him, and without Young Americans, it arguably wouldn't exist. So, I remain grateful to it for that.

★ (Blackstar)

My final Bowie blog, is fittingly, the last studio album he released in his lifetime, which came out nine years ago today on his 69th birthday. He would have turned 78, if he were still with us. Nearly a decade on, and I can still vividly remember this album coming out. Several media outlets promoted the release by posting a picture of him, dressed in a snazzy suit and hat. It would become the last known photo of Bowie before his passing.

The pic wasn't snapped on his actual birthday, but it was released the same day to publicise his new record, simply named ★, or Blackstar. I remember rushing down to JB Hi-Fi to nab a copy on CD. I'd seen the pic on the socials, and was buoyed by how good he looked. 

It was an exciting period for Bowie fans after he dropped a new single on his birthday in 2013. It had been his first new music in about a decade, and the song Where Are We Now? was promoted as being from an upcoming album release. True to his word, his first studio album since September 2003, The Next Day, landed in March that year. With artwork that doctored the original "Heroes" record, and Tony Visconti back in the producer's chair, a new era of Bowie was being ushered in; and I was there for it!

Another new single came out at the end of 2014, Sue (Or in a Season of Crime), which tied in with the release of the excellent retrospective collection Nothing Has Changed. The end of 2015 saw another fresh single, Blackstar and yes, another new album was coming in January 2016. It was quite the ride from an artist who had barely surfaced since suffering a blocked heart artery in 2004, following a collapse on stage. So much new music in a short space of time!

I avoided the Blackstar song, and video clip, because I wanted to take it all in when the album was released. So, going back to that day, I can remember ripping the plastic off the CD and playing it in the car straight away. I got a few full listens in over the following day or two. I was excited for the change in direction, with all the avant garde jazz arrangements, and seemingly cryptic lyrics. What would Bowie do next? Such a buzz!

Then the news of his death broke, only two days after his birthday on January 10th. I remember being so confused, and so saddened. We all found out that he'd been fighting cancer, and suddenly, so many lyrics on Blackstar made total sense. The video clip to Lazarus took on a new resonance as well, because as his character was trying to write lyrics and songs, it mirrored his own struggle. He wanted to get another album out before his imminent death. 

It's been a few years since I listened to this record in full, and I was interested in how I would find it, nearly ten years on from his passing. It will always be hard to disassociate this album from losing Bowie. I decided to listen to all seven tracks in full, on both CD and vinyl, in one setting. 

The eerie title track kicks things off, with a run time of nearly ten minutes, hearkening back to his excellent Station to Station album, which opened the same way. It's actually two songs joined together, but they flow in and out of each other quite effortlessly. Once the Gregorian chorus gives way to Bowie's wonderful clear vocal singing "Something happened on the day he died," you are transported into a different mood. The unsettling first few minutes have a bizarre drum pattern and its minor key adds to the tension. The second piece is classic Bowie, with the distorted, repeated line "I'm a blackstar, I'm a blackstar" punctuating his melodic couplets. The song works it way into the chants and lyrics that opened it, with a clever segue that goes back and forth a couple of times, playing with the track's timing and syncopation. 

It's a big highlight of the album, and arguably, its best one. The accompanying clip features many disturbing images and callbacks to older Bowie songs, Space Oddity in particular. The sight of Bowie gyrating with his eyes bandaged, save for two small holes is almost as iconic as that of his clown in the Ashes to Ashes video or his patch-wearing rock pirate in Rebel Rebel. Seeing him dressed like a priest or some religious official, clutching a book (or bible) with the Blackstar on its cover is also quite stirring. I'm sure the more you watch the video, the more you will find in it. I haven't watched it for years.

The second track is the B-side of the aforementioned Sue single, 'Tis a Pity She Was a Whore. Whereas the initial releases of both songs favoured jazzier arrangements, the re-recorded versions on this record are almost industrial in feel, with thumping bass and booming drums. The single version of Sue is longer and feels more narrative than the one of this album, and I prefer both of those versions to the two tracks here. I'm not sure of why Bowie felt the need to re-record them. Maybe it was to give the album a more cohesive feel. Of the two tracks, I much prefer Sue, in either incarnation. As the narrator struggles with providing for the titular Sue, things descend into a dark tale of murder and madness. Quite unlike anything else in Bowie's canon, particularly in its original form.

Blackstar's second single and third track is Lazarus, a downbeat, but somehow hopeful elegiac song that gave us more hints than we realised. The opening lines are arguably the most poignant:

"Look up here, I'm in heaven/

I've got scars that can't be seen/

I've got drama, can't be stolen/

Everybody knows me now"

Far out. Right in the feels. It's quite a haunting brass line that repeats throughout the track. It's almost like a lullaby, but with a hint of menace or fear. Who knows how Bowie was really coming to terms with his mortality, but to use his death for his art is truly an amazing feat. Of all the moments on this album that say goodbye to his fans, this is probably the most poignant. However, there is a puzzling lyric about "looking for your ass" though. Not sure what that's about. As Bowie sings he'll be free like a bluebird, you can only assume he's singing about leaving this life. The title refers to the biblical character who rose from the dead four days after he passed away, when his tomb was visited by Jesus. This miracle was one of the reasons that led to Jesus' eventual crucifixion. Not sure how Bowie's narrative fits in with those events, but the interpretations are endless.  

The fifth track on the record is another favourite of mine, Girl Loves Me. Using some of the Nadsat vernacular popularised in Anthony Burgess' A Clockwork Orange novel, and the 1971 movie, this track's lyrics are almost nonsensical. It doesn't stop the song being relatable, particularly the repeated line "Where the fuck did Monday go?". Again, there's a menace or some sort of malevolence permeating the mood of the track, and the Nasdat terms just add to that: 

"Devotchka watch her garbles/
Spatchko at the rozz-shop/
Split a ded from his deng deng/

Viddy viddy at the cheena"

Yeah, not sure what's being sung about here, but I like it. He he he... the next song Dollar Days, is one of the weaker tracks here, for mine. It's a softer feel in tone and emotion, and expresses Bowie's struggle with what time he has left. Bizarrely, even though it isn't as melancholic or dark as other tracks on this album, it feels more depressing than any of them. 

I think the record's final track, I Can't Give Everything Away, is a goodbye, but also a tale of celebrity expectations. As social media continued to make it easier to interact with famous people, the demands for those interactions increased. It wasn't enough to snap a selfie or wave hello anymore. People wanted to know the celebrity and have a conversation, possibly even become friends in extreme cases. Bowie addresses this nicely within a verse:

"Seeing more and feeling less/

Saying no but meaning yes/

That is all I ever meant/

That's the message that I sent"

There's only so much you can give to the public. You have to keep something for yourself. I love hearing Bowie's son Duncan Jones talk about how much of a dag he was at home, and away from the stage. He would goof around like any other dad and regularly had his head in a book. That was his private side; it was only for a select few.

If that harmonica line sounds familiar, it's because it was lifted from Low's closing track of its first side, A New Life in a New Town. That could be taken as another hint to what Bowie was facing as he recorded this album. It's a tough listen at times, but it's such a different offering from the man. I think it's unlike anything he's released, from an album point of view. It has moments of echoing older records, but it's something quite extraordinary. I give it 4/5, me. It's up there with the best.

UP NEXT: TBA

Hunky Dory

Today marks the 52nd anniversary of the release of Bowie's fourth (and first really Bowiesque) album Hunky Dory! It's such a great record, and one of the few Bowie long players I have on vinyl, albeit a reissue. There's a special place in my heart for this one, as the Wesleys along with keyboard whiz Kim Siragusa performed this album in its entirety for the Newport Record Club in April 2016. I would place Hunky Dory in my Top 5 Bowie Albums, possibly at the coveted position of number five.

Kicking off with the 1-2 punch of Changes and Oh! You Pretty Things, this record sees Bowie successfully finding his voice, and coming up with some pretty profound lyrics, considering his 24 years on the planet. Both of these songs are fairly well known, with the latter becoming more renowned in recent years. It is a quintessential Bowie track from 1970s, and a little bit of Ziggy creeps into this one, I reckon. Some of the lines from Quicksand are deeply introspective as he searches for identity and ponders his place in the world. Check this out:

"Don't believe in yourself,

Don't deceive with belief,

Knowledge comes with death's release..."

Fairly heavy stuff, huh? This is also the album that gifts us the wondrous Life on Mars? which isn't short of its own profundities either. 

Assembling the band that would go to be his Spiders From Mars, Bowie enlisted Mick Ronson on guitar, Trevor Bolder on bass and drummer Mick 'Woody' Woodmansey to start recording a new album in mid 1971. Interestingly, Tony Visconti is not involved in this record, having not only played bass on Bowie's previous album The Man Who Sold the World, but he also produced it. For Hunky Dory, Bowie himself co-produces alongside Ken Scott. Visconti and Bowie would work together again on numerous occasions in the future. 

As well as bass, Bolder also contributes a lovely bit of trumpet to the exquisite Kooks, an ode to Bowie's newborn son, Duncan Zowie Haywood Jones. Yes, THAT Duncan Jones, the filmmaker. There's quite a bit of piano on this record, which is played by Bowie himself on Oh! You Pretty Things and Eight Line Poem. However, elsewhere the keys are courtesy of the legendary Rick Wakeman before he joined up with prog rockers Yes. Apparently he was offered a regular spot in Bowie's touring band, but declined in favour of Yes. One wonders how those legendary Ziggy concerts would have gone if he was involved.

After an amazingly strong first side, which includes all six songs I have mentioned, the record flip kicks off with a whimsical cover of Fill Your Heart. The song was penned by a performer called Biff Rose and Paul Williams, a songwriter who would go on to have his hand in many classic songs including Rainy Days and Mondays (the Carpenters), Evergreen (Barbra Streisand) and The Rainbow Connection (Kermit the Frog). The album just stops dead here. It has some nifty piano work, but it's not much of a song. The most exciting thing happens at the track's end when the saxophone jumps in and out of the speaker as the spooky sound effects announce the arrival of Andy Warhol, which features an off-the-cuff introduction from Bowie clarifying the name of the sound, to presumably, the sound crew. Like the song before it, Andy Warhol features no drums, only percussion with two acoustic guitar parts. This wouldn't have sounded out of place on the Space Oddity album, I reckon. I quite like it, as it has some kind of weird Bowie quality, but it's a novelty track really.

Thankfully, the record gets really good again, with two more highlights hitting one after the other, with the excellent Song for Bob Dylan and the rollicking Queen Bitch. The opening lines of Song for Bob Dylan are probably my favourite lyrics on the album:

"Oh, hear this, Robert Zimmerman/

I wrote a song for you/

About a strange young man named Dylan/

With a voice like sand and glue..."

Dylan wasn't even a decade into the biz, but this track seemingly ponders his impact and how his audience will be affected in the future. Have they been deserted, or are they content with what has been left to them? I imagine most people at the time would not have expected the man to still be active fifty years later, let alone still producing excellent work. His last studio album (number 39, if you're counting), 2020's Rough and Rowdy Ways is one of his best efforts, for mine.

An early prototype for what would become glam rock, the aforementioned Queen Bitch is a clear homage to The Velvet Underground in both production and content. As the narrator searches through clubs for romantic encounters of an ambiguous nature, it feels like something Lou Reed could sing about and the crunch of Ronson's guitar landing on the introductory acoustic sets the track on fire. Like Fill Your Heart, this track is not indicative of the rest of the album, but in a good way. It's a big highlight for me, and is a big jump towards the creation of Ziggy Stardust and the sound of the next two Bowie albums. 

The final track is another interesting one, The Bewlay Brothers. Loosely based on Bowie himself and his half-brother Terry, the lyrics are quite nonsensical. Although it feels like a ballad or story, you're not really given much of a plotline. These are merely random images and expressions of feeling, with some of the densest lyrics Bowie ever penned. I like it, but I'm not sure what he means when sings "He's chameleon, comedian, Corinthian and caricature". The final moments of the song change tack when numerous overdubbed voices of Bowie combine to deliver the perplexing denouement:

"Lay me place and bake me pie/

I'm starving for me gravy/

Leave my shoes, and door unlocked/

I might just slip away, hey/

Just for the day, hey!.."

Yeah, no idea there. I think Bowie just liked the sound of the words. It feels a bit like the random imagery of The Beatles' I Am the Walrus. As the voices of Bowie fade out we are left with the memories of an album unlike any other in his canon. So many different feels, and moods, but somehow, undeniably Bowie. It's a good one. Heck, it's a great one, but a couple of missteps prevent this from being absolutely classic. I give it 4.5/5 anyway!

NEXT UP: ☆ - 8th Jan, 2025 (last one!)

Space Oddity

Depending on which version you're familiar with, Bowie's major label debut album celebrates 55 years of being in the universe today. I embarked upon doing a blog for each of Bowie's albums in 2021, but got to November and crashed. Thankfully, I only have three records to go, including Blackstar, which I'll blog about in January next year, finally finishing my blog-about-Bowie project. 

Getting back to Space Oddity or David Bowie or Man of Music/Man of Words, Bowie's second album is a far departure from the twee 1967 self-titled album released through Deram Records. Two years is a long time in music, and the growth in Bowie's songwriting and vocal delivery had shifted up a gear. The stunning opening track (and depending on the album release, eponymous as well) remains a marvel fifty odd years on. It is arguably the highlight of the record, and while this album fails to meet the lofty heights of Bowie's later releases like Hunky Dory or the Ziggy Stardust record, there are some other great tracks here. 

As it isn't as focused as his later albums, there are many shades of colour and feel throughout. Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed is a bit folk-rock, and the epic nine and a half minute long (yes, that's right!) Cygnet Committee is feels like an early attempt at prog rock. He would explore that vein again on The Width of the Circle, which appeared on the follow-up album The Man Who Sold the World. Janine is a fairly straightforward pop/rocker and Letter to Hermione is firmly planted in the soil of the ballad. None of these tracks are that spectacular, but they are very listenable.

For me, the album ends better than it starts. Once you're wowed by Space Oddity, nothing immediately after it hold your interest as well. The forty second throwaway (Don't Sit Down) only serves to show a little of Bowie's humorous side, I'm guessing. My next major highlight of the album is the eighth track Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud which is full of stirring orchestrations and an engaging fantasy narrative. This gives way to God Knows I'm Good, which could have sat at home on Hunky Dory, feeling very similar that album's Andy Warhol. The mostly acoustic tale of morality centres on a shoplifter who asks to be ignored by God, and then saved by Him. Interesting song idea.

The closing track is my favourite song here, apart from Space Oddity, of course. Memory of a Free Festival is another long number, breaching the seven minute mark, but's quite an entrancing one. Starting with only Bowie's vocal and his playing of a child's Rosedale Electric Chord Organ, we are told of the happenings of the eponymous festival held in Beckenham earlier in August 1969. Some of my favourite Bowie lyrics ever are in this song, like:

"Oh, to capture just one drop of all the ecstasy that swept that afternoon/

To paint that love upon a white balloon..."

After a few minutes, the rest of the band arrives noisily as the refrain 'the sun machine is coming down and we're gonna have a party' is sung over and over again. The band eventually fades out, and we're left with Bowie singing the line on his with the organ as the song began. It's just terrific, and I love it. 

This album was produced by Tony Visconti, who would go on to produce many of Bowie's future releases. He also contributes bass, as does legendary session bassist Herbie Flowers. Rick Wakeman plays mellotron and harpsichord, and would find himself appearing on more Bowie albums as well, before declining Bowie's offer to be in The Spiders from Mars and joining Yes. 

While it's not very cohesive, the seeds of greatness are definitely planted here. I give it 3/5, after a damn good listening-to yesterday. 

NEXT UP: Hunky Dory - 17th Dec

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

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

Lodger

Bowie's 13th album Lodger was released forty two years ago last week, on the 18th of May. I was unable to get a-bloggin' about it then, so here is my a-blog now. Fair enough? The final offering of the supposed 'Berlin Trilogy', even though it was recorded in Switzerland and New York City. One of the big factors connecting the three albums (Low, "Heroes" and Lodger - for the uninitiated) is Brian Eno, who Bowie met in 1976. While Eno co-wrote several songs on these albums, they were helmed by multi-instrumentalist and frequent collaborator Tony Visconti, who produced the albums with Bowie. 

This record stands out from the three as arguably the weakest entry, and the only one not to feature any instrumental tracks. There's also a pop sensibility that permeates the music, despite some experimental sounds and Middle Eastern influences. Another difference is the addition of guitarist Adrian Belew, who Bowie had recently poached from Frank Zappa. Other contributing musicians include bassist George Murray, drummer Dennis Davis, violinist Simon House and pianist Sean Mayes. Frequent Bowie band member Carlos Alomar is also on guitar duties and co-wrote a couple of tracks as well. 

Wow, my thumb obscures the album's title - rookie move.
(Although you can make out 'Lodger' in four different languages below)

I must confess to not being the biggest fan of this offering, but there are a handful of songs I absolutely love. Seeing as it's been a fair few years since my last full listen, now seems like an excellent opportunity to remedy that. Let's go song by song: 

1. FANTASTIC VOYAGE
One of my favourite opening tracks from a Bowie album, and my pick of the songs here. Featuring an absolutely brilliant vocal performance from him, this would probably be in my Top 20 Bowie songs as well. Apparently the track has several overdubbed mandolin parts, three different musicians playing three parts each! Doesn't feel like that much mando, in fact, the song's production feels quite simple to my ears. I was stoked to see Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross do an understated performance of this song for the livestream event, A Bowie Celebration, early this year. It was included in Bowie's live document A Reality Tour as well, much to my delight. Short and sweet, I actually hit repeat twice before listening to the rest of the album. The song is also the first of six songs that were co-written with Brian Eno.

2. AFRICAN NIGHT FLIGHT
There's a lot going on here. Bowie's vocal delivery borders on annoying and there's too many lyrics to take in at times. I'm sure it's the product of Eno's bizarre 'Oblique Strategies cards', but it feels like noisy filler. Interesting Middle Eastern hook, but it's a bit of mess, for mine.

3. MOVE ON
Another song that's not that memorable. Some nice vocal harmonies and a pleasant enough listen, but nothing that sticks with you. 

4. YASSASSIN (TURKISH FOR 'LONG LIVE')
Not the greatest track here, but I do like the melody of the repeated 'yassassin' with the call and answer responses: "I'm not a moody guy/I walk without a sound". Almost a ska/reggae vibe on this one, complete with wobbly organ part. 

5. RED SAILS
Now, I don't mind this one. The vocal line is quite hooky and I found myself singing the "thunder ocean" bit repeatedly after my first re-listen. The melody-mirroring saxophone was provided by Stan Harrison, not Bowie himself. I do find it bizarre when he doesn't play the sax. Belew sounds like he was finally let off the chain a bit here too. The album itself starts to get a bit more interesting from this point on. 

6. DJ
One of a handful of songs that started to appear deriding the radio industry, the attitudes of those who helm the song choices and the decisions of what makes the airwaves. I first heard this track on the 1993 compilation Singles Collection Vol. 2, and took a while to warm to it. I dig it a lot more now, and it's certainly one of the album highlights. Co-written with Alomar, this song features a lot of guitar work from Belew and a memorable chorus line: "I am a DJ/I am what I play". 

7. LOOK BACK IN ANGER
Not a bad track, but doesn't really go anywhere. It seems like it stays in the same place without really moving forward, despite the galloping feel of the song. Bowie's vocal performance is terrific though, and the sound production of the band is pretty good.

8. BOYS KEEP SWINGING
Possibly the album's most renowned track, and another big highlight for me. The instrumentation and arrangement reminds me of early Roxy Music. I really love the bassline, which was re-recorded by Visconti after the experimental idea of the musicians swapping instruments didn't quite work. That's Alomar on the drums! He he he... I only just learned that this song also has the same chord progression as Fantastic Voyage. Now, I can't stop swapping the two songs around! 

9. REPETITION
A harrowing account of domestic violence, belied by the track's bouncy bassline. Bowie's near-emotionless vocals are especially chilling, as it would seem the song's narrator has no qualms about beating his wife. Not really an enjoyable listen, but an interesting one. 

10. RED MONEY
The album's final offering isn't too bad, and has Eno playing that synth sound throughout. Some nice crunchy guitar, and overdubbed vocals. Again, like some previous tracks, it feels a little meandering and comes across as filler. Its fadeout is almost merciful, as the song feels like it could just keep going. 

All in all, it's not brilliant, but has its moments. I give it 3 out of 5. Would listen to some of it again.

NEXT UP: Diamond Dogs. Eeep! This one was a little late...