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David Bowie


The Man Who Sold The World
Hunky Dory
The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars
Aladdin Sane
Diamond Dogs
Young Americans
Station To Station
Low
Heroes
Lodger
Scary Monsters
Changesbowie
The Singles (1969-1993)


The Man Who Sold The World (Rykodisc ’70, ‘72, ’90) Rating: A
Bowie’s first great record (his main moment before this was the classic “Space Oddity” single), this album also introduced his most fondly remembered backing band (the Spiders), whose prime contributions here are the strangely psychedelic Moog decorations of Ralph Mace and the flashy guitar wizardry of Mick Ronson. In fact, this artsy hard rock album is almost as much Ronson’s as Bowie’s, since his heavy riffs and solos dominate several songs. These include the epic album opener “Width Of A Circle,” as well as the straightforward riff rock of “Black Country Rose” and “She Shook Me Cold,” whose heft could compete with the likes of Cream, Led Zeppelin, and even Black Sabbath (drummer Mick “Woody” Woodmansey absolutely terrorizes his drum kit). Other personal favorites include the catchy title track (later popularized by Nirvana) and spacey mid-tempo numbers like “All The Madmen,” “After All,” and “The Supermen.” There are definitely some weird ones here, not the least because of Bowie’s oddly affecting (high-pitched, cracked, and extremely British) vocals, and some chillingly violent (the politically incorrect “Running Gun Blues”) and science fictional (“Savior Machine”) imagery. The otherworldly effects and glammy trappings (he and Marc Bolan must’ve shared some notes in addition to producer Tony Visconti) makes the album sound somewhat dated, while themes of rampant madness and paranoia also won’t appeal to everybody. However, this is the album where Bowie first found his voice, and huge chunks of it remain riveting over 30 years later.

Hunky Dory (Rykodisc ’71, 90) Rating: A-
An album in the eclectic singer-songwriter tradition (seemingly influenced by Elton John and Ray Davies), Hunky Dory is best remembered for the outstanding Beatles-esque ballad “Changes.” “Oh You Pretty Things” is likewise a theatrical piece of piano pop rock that’s tough to shake, while Mick Ronson’s melodic guitar then graces the modestly unremarkable “Eight Line Poem,” which is exactly what it claims to be. Bowie’s emotional vocals makes the brilliant “Life On Mars?” unforgettable, while a catchy shuffle groove and some sweet vocals lifts “Kooks,” a song about Bowie’s son and the album’s most light-hearted and optimistic track along with “Fill Your Hearts,” the album’s lone cover song. “Quicksand” is a strong Kinksy piano/acoustic guitar/strings-led song that’s very British, a trait that’s shared by the dramatic album closer “The Bewlay Brothers,” which also features one of Bowie’s most personal lyrics. Elsewhere, Bowie pays tribute to “Andy Warhol” with an annoying if catchy chorus, Bob Dylan (“Song For Bob Dylan,” which is memorable for its “here she comes” chorus), and the Velvet Underground (“Queen Bitch”), which glam-ily tackles another private obsession (drag queens). Mick Ronson supplies some nice guitar and string arrangements throughout, but his place of prominence is shared by piano wizard Rick Wakeman (later of Yes fame). After all, for all of Bowie’s undeniable individual talent, his best work has generally featured at least one inspired co-collaborator, and here he has two supreme sidemen firing on all cylinders. Hunky Dory has charted high on several U.K. “best albums of all-time” lists, and though this may be overstating the case clearly this was another classic Bowie album.

The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars (Rykodisc ’72, ’90) Rating: A+
This futuristic concept album about an androgynous alien rock star was the ultimate glam rock album. It was also the album that broke Bowie big, at least in the U.K. After all, the stage persona of Ziggy Stardust made for great rock n’ roll theater - remember the confusion caused when Bowie “retired” Ziggy? - and, more importantly, this album contains some great rock ‘n roll songs. Included among those are the unforgettable riffs and strange chorus of the title track, and the relentless rock drive and hilarious lyrics of “Suffragette City,” the album’s two most famous songs. In addition, the metallic “Moonage Daydream” features some killer Ronson guitar, while the wide-eyed wonder of “Starman” is a catchy and dramatic space ballad a la “Life On Mars.” Also notable are the lushly orchestrated chants of “Five Years,” which brilliantly harks towards Armageddon (and which bears a resemblance to the Moody Blues’ “Go Now”), the catchy show tune chorus of poor “Lady Stardust” (the “lady” in question being glam buddy Marc Bolan), the John Lennon-ish “Star,” the campy “Hang On To Yourself,” and “Rock n’ Roll Suicide,” which glumly brings the album to its resolute conclusion. Only a couple of tracks are less than absolutely necessary, while Ronson’s razor-sharp guitar and Bowie’s reedy vocals ensure that this sci-fi extravaganza (despite some dated elements) delivers a one-of-a-kind experience. It remains both Bowie’s most beloved and best creation. Note: “John I’m Only Dancing” and “Velvet Goldmine” (the latter of which was later the title of a major motion picture about the good old glam days) are essential bonus tracks on the reissue. Note #2: During this time Bowie also made major contributions to the careers of Lou Reed and Mott The Hoople, producing Transformer and All The Young Dudes, respectively. Bowie also wrote the classic “All The Young Dudes” for Mott.

Aladdin Sane (Rykodisc ’73,’90) Rating: A-
A gloriously trashy romp that closed the curtain on Bowie’s glam rock period, the criminally overlooked Aladdin Sane was Bowie’s last album with Ronson, whose edgy guitar playing played a prominent role in making Bowie’s glam era so great. Fortunately, Mick didn’t go quietly into the night, as his raging guitar runs highlight the rollicking rocker “Watch That Man,” the manic metal of “Panic In Detroit,” the high-octane “Cracked Actor,” and the stomping funk of “The Jean Genie,” the album’s lone hit single. Also memorable is the subdued melodicism of the title track, which featured some sparkling piano work by new recruit Mike Garson, whose playing also dominates the lovely “Lady Grinning Soul.” Elsewhere, “Drive In Saturday” and “The Prettiest Star” both add dashes of doo-wop and saxophone to creatively campy melodies, while “Time” is the album’s big (some would say overwrought) ballad. And Bowie had so much fun suping up The Rolling Stones’ “Let’s Spend The Night Together” with a Roxy Music-styled wackiness that he then decided to do a whole album's worth of cover tunes called Pin Ups (a la Bryan Ferry’s These Foolish Things). Aladdin Sane was written during “Ziggy’s” zany tour of America in 1972, and though it lacked the conceptual unity and epic sense of grandeur of Ziggy Stardust, it nevertheless was one of Bowie’s best albums. Note: This was the year that Bowie also resurrected the Raw Power of Iggy and the Stooges, though his production work for their album would be found wanting by nearly everyone.

Diamond Dogs (Rykodisc ’74, ‘90) Rating: B+
After Pin Ups (for Bowie fanatics only), Bowie had planned to create a musical based on George Orwell’s novel 1984. However, when Orwell’s widow refused to grant him the rights, Bowie instead created the horrific post-apocalyptic Hunger City, a place where “fleas the size of rats sucked on rats the size of cats.” Sans Mick Ronson and the Spiders (though Mike Garson is back in impressive form), this is less of a guitar driven album, on which Bowie admirably handles the lead chores himself. As such, Diamond Dogs was a transitional album on which Bowie attempted to move beyond glam. Hated by critics but a sleeper favorite of many hardcore Bowie fans, I’ve grown to quite like this unique creation, which begins in earnest with the rollicking title track, a solid if sloppy and overly long song that continues the Rolling Stones/r&b debt that was so evident on Aladdin Sane. Bowie’s emotive vocals then enhance the dramatic “Sweet Thing/Candidate/Sweet Thing (Reprise)” suite that forms the heart of the album, and its edgy ending segues perfectly into “Rebel Rebel,” a great straight up rocker that sounds so much better in its proper place here than on the radio, where it became the hit that helped make this Bowie’s first top 10 album in the U.S. Next comes the campy (and corny) sing along “Rock ‘n’ Roll With Me,” before the Orwellian nightmare begins in earnest on the gothic “We Are The Dead,” a sinister song about a pair of doomed lovers a la Winston Smith and Julia. Finally, the catchy "1984" sees Bowie going into an entirely new disco direction that owes as much to Curtis Mayfield and Isaac Hayes as to George Orwell, before “Big Brother/Chant of the Ever Circling Skeletal Family” ends the album with Bowie under the spell of Big Brother, a fitting ending to a fine, underrated album. Note: Though this is where the album should end, conceptually speaking, it should be noted that the Rykodisc reissue continues with the minor (if catchy) “Dodo” and a radically different version of “Candidate” that arguably trumps the original.

Young Americans (Rkyodisc ’75, ‘91) Rating: B
Never one to be pinned down to any one style, this major detour saw Bowie entering into his self-described “plastic soul” period. No, this wasn’t the sweaty soul produced by the likes of Otis Redding or Sam and Dave, as Bowie instead emulated the slick, lite soul sounds coming out of the Philadelphia International (O’Jays, Stylistics) and disco camps. And though Bowie will never be accused of being an especially soulful singer, this nevertheless was an assured and enjoyable collection that showed off the man’s mastery at assimilating and inhibiting (however temporarily) different styles. In particular, the ultra catchy title track and the funky #1 hit “Fame” (co-written with John Lennon) were classic hit singles that are the album’s enduring high points. But that’s not all, as “Win” uses an easy-going synth groove and sexy backing vocals to reveal Bowie at his most emotionally naked, while the hot dance groove of “Fascination” (a collaboration with a young Luther Vandross) and the soulful, Stevie Wonder-influenced “Right” also hit the right pleasure points. Elsewhere, lesser efforts include “Somebody Up There Likes Me,” which exhibits only average songwriting but some superb saxophone, an unnecessary cover of The Beatles “Across The Universe,” and the boringly crooned “Can You Here Me,” whose lush and pretty canvas could use a dash of energy and conviction. Still, an increased use of the synthesizer, Carlos Alomar’s supple guitar playing, lots of wailing saxophone, and some sexy female backing vocals help boost Bowie’s cause, and though many of his fans denounced this new direction (which would prove highly influential), I find it to be a pleasurable period piece. Note: The reissue includes two soulful ballads (“Who Can I Be Now?,” “It’s Gonna Be Me”) that are perfectly in line with, and arguably superior to, much of the material that made it onto the original album.

Station To Station (Rykodisc ’76,’91) Rating: A
After his most commercially successful and American album, Bowie adopted a more European sound that built on Young Americans’ you gotta move momentum, while also adding layers of chilly effects and a coolly detached aura to some great grooves. As Lester Bangs said about the album: “it has a wail and a throb that won’t let up and rolls roughshod over the words.” And though he said that in part to make a point about how awful a lyricist he thought Bowie was, the criticism is more useful as an accurate account of the album’s undeniable musical momentum. The ambitious 10-minute title track starts things off slowly, with harsh synthesizers, bright keyboards, and hard rock riffs. These elements somehow mesh together into an epic whole, but the song surprisingly changes halfway through into an excellent dance track that’s capped off by some great Earl Slick guitar. After this undeniable success, Bowie then takes the listener into “Golden Years,” a big hit that sports an easygoing funk pop groove. A repetitive and overrated dance song, I like it well enough, but it’s probably the worst (not the best) song here, though the lighter “TVC15,” which is arguably the album’s second best known song, is also danceable but not quite substantial. Far weightier are deeper album cuts like “Word On A Wing,” on which Bowie brings forth a smooth and passionate vocal delivery that he likely would’ve been incapable of but a few years before, and “Wild Is The Wind” (a cover song originally done by Johnny Matthis!), another beautiful ballad that sees an intense Bowie singing (seemingly) most sincerely. “Stay” is even better, being a supreme guitar showcase that stays in a white hot funk groove for 6-minutes and shows off his great band, in particular rhythm guitarist Carlos Alomar and slick guitar soloist Earl Slick (pun intended). Station To Station marked a turning point in Bowie’s career, and many fans and critics still regard it as his best work; Bowie then headed off to Berlin for a famous trio of albums with Brian Eno.

Low (Rykodisc ’77, 91) Rating: A
This shockingly experimental album confirmed Bowie’s status as a serious avant garde (a.k.a. “alternative”) artist, and it was certainly a far more effective retreat from the demands of stardom than, say, Bob Dylan’s Self Portrait or Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music. In fact, though it didn’t sell well, Low is an immensely influential classic that (along with Kraftwerk) paved the way for the future prominence of electronic music, in particular the synthesizer. The first installment of his renowned “Berlin trilogy” in collaboration with producer/auteur/musician Brian Eno, Low is like 2 EPs, with the concise first half consisting of short, catchy (though hardly commercial) pop songs. These are anchored by insistent guitar riffs and darkly angular yet somehow accessible synthesizer grooves that are best exemplified by the undeniably catchy and melodic “Sound And Vision,” one of Bowie’s best songs ever. In addition, some more great guitar (by Carlos Alomar and Ricky Gardener) helps make Mick Ronson a fond but distant memory. Eno’s presence is particularly felt on the album’s entirely different second half, which stretches out by containing coldly beautiful ambient instrumentals such as “Warszawa” and “Subterranean.” These songs are a far cry from the rocking first half, yet they’re equally strange and fascinating in their own foreign ways. Countless bands would musically cut their teeth trying out both styles, while Bowie’s anti-commercial stance in pursuing a totally new and exciting musical direction was equally important in the evolution of alternative rock. Note: The reissue bonus tracks “Some Are” and “All Saints” fit right in with the otherworldly overall mood of the album’s second side. There’s also a far inferior version of “Sound And Vision.” Note #2: During this time Bowie also simultaneously resurrected (again) the career of Iggy Pop by collaborating with him on his first two solo albums.

Heroes (Rkyodisc ’77, ’91) Rating: B+
This was the incredibly prolific Bowie’s second album of 1977, and his fourth if you count the two albums he produced for Iggy Pop, since he also co-wrote and played on most of the songs on The Idiot and Lust For Life. Heroes follows the same blueprint as Low but isn’t as groundbreaking or as good, making it something of an inferior sequel. Still, it’s yet another fine (if inconsistent) David Bowie album. The more conventional first side begins with “Beauty And The Beast” and “Joe The Lion,” both of which feature discordant grooves that get better with repeat plays (they certainly didn’t win me over the first few times). Of course, this album is essential for the dreamy title track alone, as the edited single version on his “greatest hits” collections don’t do it justice. The ultimate Bowie song, “Heroes” features his greatest vocal by far, inspiring lyrics (“we could be heroes, just for one day”), and Robert Fripp’s insistent guitar melody. The other highlight from the average first side (aside from Fripp’s consistently stellar guitar playing) is “Sons Of The Silent Age,” an evocative sax-led ballad. Like Low, most of the album’s second side is comprised of ambient Eno-esque instrumentals that are only slightly less original and fascinating than those found on Low. “V-2 Schneider” features a creative (again, sax-led) groove before the simple but effectively ominous “Sense Of Doubt” segues into the lovely, Japanese-influenced (that’s not an acoustic guitar but a koto you’re hearing) “Moss Garden.” The ominous mood then returns for “Neukoln” before the album surprisingly ends with the danceable, synth-led groove of “The Secret Life of Arabia.” Note: The Rykodisc reissue includes “Abdulmajid,” another haunting ambient groove that really fits the album’s mood, plus an unnecessary remix of “Joe The Lion.”

Lodger (Rykodisc ’79, ’91) Rating: B+
The third and final installment of Bowie’s Berlin collaborations with Brian Eno (who co-wrote six of these ten songs), Lodger is eclectic, uncommercial, and oddly catchy. It’s also one of the most groove intensive records of Bowie’s career, and though I would’ve preferred a few more hooks the album’s strange sonics and tightly adventurous rhythms offer their own rewards for those willing enough to make the effort. An added bonus is the otherworldly guitar playing of Adrian Belew, not to mention some fine fretwork from Carlos Alomar, producer Tony Visconti, and Bowie himself. The album also contains some of Bowie’s best lyrics, particularly on the excellent ballad “Fantastic Voyage,” the tongue-in-check transexualism of “Boys Keep Swinging” (which swings musically as well), and the disturbingly mundane “Repetition,” which is rendered all the more chilling by its matter of fact delivery. Elsewhere, there are some African (“African Night Flight” wouldn’t sound out of place on the Talking Heads’ Remain In Light) and Middle Eastern (“Yassassin”) musical influences, plus another catchy disco song (“D.J.”). Long story short: this danceable album, on which drummer Dennis Davis is a real standout, continued the path of forward progress for Bowie, as this was no sequel but a stand alone album that's unique within the Bowie oeuvre. Note: On the Rykodisc reissue, the two bonus cuts are the previously unreleased “I Pray, Ole” and an elongated (and arguably improved) version of “Look Back In Anger,” both of which offer really good further inducements.

Scary Monsters (Rykodisc ’80, ‘91) Rating: B+
Without Brian Eno but with producer Tony Visconti, Scary Monsters was very much a song-oriented album that saw Bowie embracing new wave and disco while also rocking out forcefully. Though more conventional and somewhat less exciting than his Berlin albums, this album likewise contained jarringly discordant yet strangely accessible sonic textures. Bowie seems to be treading water slightly, but this nevertheless was another varied and consistently well-crafted album that was highlighted by “Ashes to Ashes,” one of Bowie’s very best songs that contains new wave touches and one of Bowie’s most affecting vocals. In addition, its lyrics about what happened to “Space Oddity”'s poor old Major Tom (“we know Major Tom’s a junkie”) made it the rare sequel that topped a classic original. Elsewhere, the propulsive, mindlessly chanted title track and the epic “Teenage Wildlife,” easily the album’s second best song, are notable guitar showcases (the edgy fretboard magic here being supplied by Robert Fripp) on an album that takes some warming up to (for example, the weird Japanese vocals on “It’s No Game (Pt. 1)”), particularly since Bowie’s vocal affectations are at times tough to take. However, if given time songs such as “Fashion” (another danceable hit), “Because You’re Young,” and the mellower version of “It’s No Game (Pt. 2)” become difficult to deny, and the end result was another in a long line of strong Bowie albums. Note: Special mention for the booming drums of Dennis Davis, though the four bonus tracks on the Rykodisc reissue are all fairly negligible.

Changesbowie (Rykodisc ’90) Rating: A
David Bowie was inarguably one of the most important artists of the ‘70s. Among other things, Bowie brought a sense of theater to rock n’ roll by introducing the concept of role playing, he introduced a generation of white boys to soul (albeit “plastic soul”), and he brought a chilly European glaze to some truly revolutionary electronic experiments. He was also the cross dressing king of glam, he brought pianos, saxophones, and science fiction to a high level of rock n’ roll prominence, and he always had a killer band backing him up. But for all of Bowie’s stylistic innovations, what ultimately mattered most was the great music that he produced. Though Bowie was a consummate album artist, many of his greatest songs were singles, and this 18-track compilation (which appends six songs to 1976’s Changesonebowie) is a neat summation of David Bowie the singles artist, beginning with 1968’s “Space Oddity” and ending with 1984’s “Blue Jean.” As such, it contains almost all of Bowie’s best known (and in many cases best) songs. Whether as Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, the Thin White Duke, or simply David Bowie, these are the songs that even most non-fans know by heart. Reeling off classic after classic, Changesbowie offers surefire listening pleasure, though big Bowie fans who already own these songs can probably live without it. Negatives: no liner notes, a lame “Fame ’90 remix,” and an edited version of “Heroes.”

The Singles (1969-1993) (Rykodisc ’93) Rating: A
Excellent though Changesbowie is, if you’re going to forsake the original albums (such a cliché, but that really is the only way to fully appreciate any album oriented artist), you might as well go the extra mile, because that’s exactly what The Singles does. It’s still not perfect, as again there are no liner notes, “Heroes” is still the edited single version, there’s nothing from The Man Who Sold The World, and several solid to sub par post “Blue Jean” album tracks pad out the second cd. However, earlier album tracks like “Oh, You Pretty Things,” “Life On Mars,” “Starman,” and “Sound and Vision” are absolutely essential Bowie songs that aren’t on Changesbowie, and the original “Fame” is also thankfully restored. The great Queen duet “Under Pressure,” the memorable “Cat People” soundtrack song, and the (admittedly uninspiring) Mick Jagger duet “Dancing In the Street” also make their first appearances on any David Bowie album, making The Singles a singularly satisfying purchase even for big Bowie fans. Note: Further David Bowie explorers might also want to also try Sound And Vision, a fine 3-cd box set that serves as an excellent companion piece to The Singles by concentrating on good album tracks and rarities.

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