STACK January 2016 Issue 135

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word) sounds the closest to anything he's done
previously – a little of his Wild Is the Wind vocal
from Station to Station as filtered through a
melody akin to Psychedelic Furs' Sister Europe
– but in truth this is all new territory.
A standout is Lazarus (released as a single in
December and the title piece of his forthcoming
theatre production of The Man Who Fell to
Earth) where he adopts his most intimate voice,
like a tone poem of increasing desperation.
And what's he on about on Blackstar?
Themes of alienation, religion and fear abound,
but close reading isn't rewarding because it
sounds like he's using the cut-up method.
In Lazarus you may decipher references to
Although we've had almost half a century
of the unexpected from David Bowie,
few, if any, could have anticipated his
remarkable new album, , AKA Blackstar .
It bears no resemblance to its brittle and
abrasive predecessor of three years ago,
The Next Day , and there’s scant reference
to anything in his vast catalogue of diversity.
Longtime Bowiephiles might mutter, “Hmmm,
Outside perhaps?” or “That bit sounds like
something off Black Tie White Noise”, but
mostly they're kidding themselves.
Perhaps its closest reference point might
be the stuttering electro-shivers of FKA twigs,
except Bowie is more musically ambitious and
deploys jazz musicians to paint in
the widescreen subterranean bass
and astonishing drum work from
players who shift emphasis and
tempo. At times it's as if he’s called
up the spirits of performers like
Don Cherry and Ornette Coleman,
but brought in an academy-trained
drum'n'bass crew and taken them
on a left turn into art music.
Three of the seven songs
have appeared previously: the
shapeshifting 10-minute title track
which opens the album (helluva
challenge to start with) moves
from a claustrophobic mood over
skittering drums and onward
through languid sax. The second,
Sue (Or In a Season of Crime), was
on the 2014 collection Nothing Has
Changed, however this new, more
aggressive version has splinters of
guitar piercing it. The third is ‘Tis a
Pity She’s a Whore, which originally
appeared as the B-side to the 12-
inch release of Sue, however it has
also been re-recorded for Blackstar.
But neither prepare you for the
breathtaking scope of Bowie's
musical and lyrical vision here. The
extraordinary final song I Can't Give
Everything Away (with a tellingly
lengthy pause before the final
himself, his brother who committed suicide in
’85, and/or John Lennon. Or not.
Blackstar isn't for those who partied to
Let's Dance, and maybe not even those who
immersed themselves in the sonic textures
of Low/”Heroes” , but it's quite remarkable,
and because it exists outside the wide musical
landscape he previously staked out, it drives
you to look deeply into his last 20 years for hints
that Blackstar might be on the horizon.
There's nothing, but a search allows a
rediscovery of the underrated 1.Outside
(1995) with Brian Eno which – the first of an
incomplete conceptual series – sprung The
Heart's Filthy Lesson and Hallo Spaceboy
(remixed by the Pet Shop Boys). Over
disconcerting sonic beds from Tin Machine
guitarist Reeves Gabriel, jazz drummer
Joey Barron and others, Bowie declaims a
cyberworld in decline.
The downward spiral went
unfinished because for his next
album, Earthling (1997), he
embraced drum'n'bass, jungle
and industrial sounds. It remains
one of his most interesting
albums (with Trent Reznor on
hand for I'm Afraid of Americans)
but went past most people who
only remember the distressed Union
Jack(et) he wore on the cover.
When Hours (1999) rolled around,
many former fans had moved on
(fair enough, it wasn't that good), so
most missed the excellent Heathen
(2002) where he covered Neil Young's
I've Been Waiting For You and had
a near-hit with the fascinating and
melancholy Everyone Says “Hi”.
That album and the patchy Reality
(2003) reunited him with producer
Tony Visconti, who got the call
for The Next Day which appeared
unannounced in 2013, and now the
exceptional Blackstar.
At 69, David Bowie is still delivering
the unexpected and in that regard
“nothing has changed”.
But with Blackstar, everything has
changed.
Graham Reid considers David Bowie's new
album and his recent past.
HALLO AGAIN
SPACEBOY
Its closest reference
point might be the
stuttering electro-shivers
of FKA twigs
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60 JANUARY 2016
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For more reviews, interviews and
overviews by Graham Reid: