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

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)

Dylan the 5th Amendment

Wow, I can't believe how long it has been since I last did a Dylan blog! Almost two years! Bob Dylan's fabulous The Complete Album Collection Vol. One CD box set has been in my possession for over three years and I haven't made my way through all of the albums yet. That's so like me. I like to savour, you see. I have books and albums and movies that I seem to save for The Right Time. Seeing as we just got tickets to see Dylan in August at the Perth Arena, it felt right to jump back in again. 

17. THE BASEMENT TAPES (with The Band) (1975) (24/5/18)
Despite being released in 1975, the songs on this album were relentlessly bootlegged since they were recorded in 1967 and 1968. Apparently more than 100 songs were laid down during Dylan's time with The Band (still known as The Hawks at the time). I think the biggest collection of songs from those sessions were released as part of Dylan's official Bootleg Series in 2014. 

Anyway, I find this album a little difficult to get into. In fact, it was listening to this that stopped me from continuing forward with these blog posts back in 2018. There are eight tracks that don't feature Dylan at all, echoing the shared track listing of Before The Flood, and that creates a bit of a mixed vibe. It was always going to be difficult to craft an album out of so many songs that people had shared among themselves for nearly a decade. But, even with that in mind, it comes across as being very disjointed. Maybe after more listens, I'll start to 'get it'. 

I've never been a huge fan of Tears of Rage and This Wheel's On Fire anyway, and they're the most well-known songs on offer. Even You Ain't Goin' Nowhere is quite different, lyrically and musically, from the version that appeared on Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Vol. II. I did enjoy Goin' To Acapulco, Long Distance Operator, Katie's Been Gone and Please, Mrs Henry however. The fact that Clothes Line Saga mentions the date January 30th (my birthday) is kinda cool too. One to revisit a little more, methinks.

18. DESIRE (1976) (24/5/18)
Interestingly, I listened to this album and The Basement Tapes on Dylan's 77th birthday. Another good reason for me to start spinning a little more of his work, I thought. Desire feels like a natural progression from Blood On The Tracks as far as production goes, with a prominent use of the violin, thanks to Scarlet Rivera and backing vocals from Emmylou Harris. Except for one song, the whole album was co-written by Dylan and Jacques Levy, which is quite unusual. Most of the tracks have a strong narrative style as a result, the album opening with arguably its most well-known song Hurricane. It's an epic tune outlining the wrongful imprisonment of boxer Rubin "Hurricane" Carter for the crime of murder (Carter was eventually released in 1985). The eight and a half minute track is not the longest on this album though. That title goes to the twelve verse (count 'em, twelve!) ballad Joey, which details the events of gangster "Crazy Joey" Gallo clocking up eleven minutes. It's a pretty good album this one. It was my first listen, but I was already familiar with Oh, Sister, Hurricane and One More Cup of Coffee (Valley Below), the latter being the one song Dylan penned on his own. I also dig Mozambique and Romance In Durango. During the recording of this album, Dylan also cut of my favourite tracks of his, Rita May. It was released as a single, and appeared on the 1978 three-album compilation Masterpieces, which is where I first heard it. The jaunty tune sounds like it should be here, like this is where it belongs, not adrift on a single.

19. HARD RAIN (1976) (25/5/18)
Like the documentary title, Dylan doesn't look back. If he chooses to revisit his older material in concert, he tends to change the arrangement significantly. This is definitely the case with this live album recorded during the Rolling Thunder Revue. The only songs that sound similar to the studio versions are the recent(ish) ones. Even the fairly new Shelter From The Storm gets a rollicking arrangement far removed from the acoustic treatment it received on Blood On The Tracks. The album opens with a raucous reworking of Maggie's Farm that I absolutely love. I only just learned that Mick Ronson (yes, THAT Mick Ronson) plays on the song too! It was actually the first version I heard, due to it being on the Masterpieces compilation. I didn't hear the original (from Bringing It All Back Home) until I was well into my twenties, possibly thirties. One Too Many Mornings gets a great rendition as does crowd favourite Lay Lady Lay, again presented quite differently to the Nashvillle Skyline recording. I'm not the biggest fan of Idiot Wind, but it's performance here is pretty apt closer for the album, and it's arguably more passionate than the studio version.

20. STREET-LEGAL (1978) (30/5/18)
Thanks to Rolling Stone magazine's Top 100 Dylan songs list a few years back, I was already familiar with three tracks on this album. If not for that, I would have flown into this one totally blind. While there's nothing hugely well-known here, it's pretty damn great. This marks another shift in Dylan's production as he enlists a full band complete with female backing vocals. My big highlights are Señor (Tales of Yankee Power), opening track Changing Of The Guards and the eight minute plus No Time To Think. The former is my absolute fave from this album, and bizarrely, No.100 in the aforementioned RS list. The album's closer Where Are You Tonight? (Journey Through Dark Heat) is a good track too, and another of the three from that RS list.