David Bowie

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David Bowie

David Bowie 

Listen: If this man would have done nothing but “Young Americans” he would still be considered a legend. Piano glam meets deranged soul crooner. Bowie was only 27 (!) when he recorded “Young Americans” but he sounds much older, old and English, like a vampire- a vampire saved by young Americans. David Bowie was born David Robert Jones in Brixton, an industrial and poor sector of London, England on January 8, 1947. He became interested in arts in his early childhood and mastered saxophone at 13. At 16, Jones dropped off the school and devoted himself to music. I first got on board with Bowie with the Best of Bowie compilation and was knocked away by songs like “Sound and Visions” and “Life on Mars?” I had to dig deeper and I’m glad I did for Bowie’s catalogue is one of the richest in rock ‘n’ roll history. What Hendrix did for guitars, Bowie did for theatrics, sexuality, and stylistic diddling. He released early albums as a clunky mod (see his self-titled album with highlight “Love You Til Tuesday” and the trippy “The Laughing Gnome” which is so fucking weird that you will be thinking about it even after you get it out of your head) but slowly began to find his voice when he went into space with 1969’s Space Oddity. Bowie really came to be with 1970’s The Man Who Sold the World, in no large part thanks to guitarist Mick Ronson and producer Tony Visconti (who Bowie would keep as a producer for his entire career). THEN… Bowie went to New York where a friend introduced him to the Velvet Underground. The result of that experience; 1971’s Hunky Dory, which would have been his best if he wouldn’t have kept getting better as with 1972’s Ziggy Stardust, a concept album about an androgynous rock star from outer space. “Five Years” is one of the all-time great album openers. Not to mention the others hits this album punches: “Suffragette City,” “Starman,” and “Moonage Daydream.” That’s not even mentioning one of the greatest songs ever written: “Life on Mars?” a song that knocked me to my core when I first heard it and continues to do so everytime I hear it. Such beauty. 1973’s Aladdin Sane cranks up the hard slick, sensationalistic energy of Ziggy minus the draggy bits, for a sequel that sounds even better than the original, driven by the guitar swagger of “Watch That Man” and the swooney post-apocalyptic love song “Drive-In Saturday.” 1973’s Pin Ups was a set of ‘60’s swinging-London-era covers. 1974’s Diamond Dogs gave us “Rebel Rebel,” a song he would use to open shows down the line. Bowie switched gears (as he was known to do) for the surprisingly warm R&B homage with 1974’s Young Americans, which he described as “plastic soul.” Then came 1976’s Station to Station, the album where Bowie dyed his hair blond, proclaimed himself the Thin White Duke, and made the most intense music of his life. (For the record: Bowie has said he was so high on cocaine during this time he doesn’t even remember recording the album!) 1977’s Low, released the week Bowie turned thirty, marked a new beginning. After burying himself in white powder in L.A., he fled to Berlin for some personal detox and began his famous “Berlin trilogy.” Bowie began to sing about spiritual death and rebirth, from the electric blue loneliness of “Sound and Vision” (a song so damn good that I’m convinced you have no soul it doesn’t move you in some way) to the doomed erotic obsession of “Always Crashing in the Same Car.” Thanks to producer Tony Visconti, keyboardists Brian Eno, and the fuzzed out guitar work, it’s some of the best music Bowie ever recorded. Then came 1977’s “Heroes” which saw the team Bowie was working with perfect their formula from their previous album, with the amazing title track proving to be one of the world’s most beautiful tracks. 1979’s Lodger finished off the Berlin trilogy. 1980’s Scary Monsters is a sleek, chilly-chic set. Bowie’s pop-culture clout was beginning to explode at this time and he cashed in on it with 1983’s Let’s Dance. When it was released, no-one knew it would be Bowie’s (who was only thirty-six at the time) last stand. He seemed to lose his touch overnight. There was 1984’s Tonight, a set of lame covers, and  1987’s Never Let Me Down, which was made worse with forgettable originals. There was his Tin Machine project. 1993’s Black Tie White Noise had a witty cover of Morrissey’s “I Know It’s Gonna’ Happen Someday” which is the sound of Bowie imitating one of the all time great Bowie imitators. 1995’s The Buddha of Suburbia was soundtrack filler and ‘95’s Outside was a poor union with Eno. There were signs of life on Mars with ’97’s Eathling and ‘99’s Hours, which offered strong tracks (“Looking for Satellites,” “Seven,” and “Thursday’s Child.”) 2002’s Heathen and 2003’s Reality were redeemed by lighter songwriting as well as funny covers of Neil Young and the Pixies. In 2013, ten years after releasing his last album, he gave us The Next Day, the first album I remember buying and listening to as a full-fledged Bowie fan, I wasn’t quite on the bus when Reality was released. Bowie’s ultimate act of artistry wasn’t all the characters and personas he created and put on, but his swan song. In 2016, mere days before leaving us here on Earth, David Bowie gave us Blackstar, or ★, his final album. The album is eerie, a man who knows his time is coming to an end. It was truly his last parting gift to us, the fans. It’s an amazing album and proved that Bowie was still the fuckin’ man after all these years. 2017 gave us the release of the No Plan (EP), culled from the Blackstar sessions. And just like that, he’s gone. No more new music. Now it is all greatest-hits, live albums, box-sets, radio-sessions, and rarities. It’s a shame the Man from Mars is gone, but I thank God I was able to be on Earth at the same time as this genius. It’s…

David Bowie