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

"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

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

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)