STACK NZ Jan/Feb Summer Edition Issue 70

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1.Outside (1995) with Brian
Eno which 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.
For his overlooked Earthling (1997) he
embraced drum’n’bass, jungle and industrial
sounds (Trent Reznor on hand for I’m Afraid of
Americans ) but most people only remember
the distressed Union Jack(et) he wore on the
cover.
By the patchy Hours (1999) many fans had
moved on so missed the excellent Heathen
(2002) which included the fascinatingly
melancholy Everyone Says “Hi”.
That album and the uneven Reality (2003)
reunited him with producer Tony Visconti who
also got the call for the spiky The Next Day in
2013 and the unexpectedly different Blackstar.
Now the changeling — a more appropriate
description than chameleon — that was David
Bowie is no longer with us.
But – as he sings on Lazarus on Blackstar —
“Look up, I’m in Heaven”.
visit MUSIC REVIEWS
20 SUMMER EDITION 2016
MUSIC
D avid Bowie frequently changed his
musical colours, but to call him a
chameleon — as many have done
since his unexpected death just days after the
release of his stunning new album Blackstar —
is wrong.
A chameleon blends into the colours of the
background, Bowie took the colours and used
them to stand out.
In the early 70s he leapt past Marc Bolan
of T. Rex to become the glam-rock Ziggy star;
three years later he adopted the sounds of
Philadelphia for cocaine-fueled soul on Young
Americans which he took to chic nightclubs and
the top of the charts; he relocated to austere
Berlin and assimilated German electronic
landscapes for the groundbreaking Low/Heroes/
Lodger trilogy . . .
But in every incarnation he made “David
Bowie music”, and for decades it was a
hallmark of quality. Even when presenting
challenging music as on Low and Heroes he
could toss out hit singles (Sound
and Vision, Beauty and the Beast,
Heroes) which didn’t compromise
art to get on the charts.
Bowie’s career was multi-
faceted and enticingly textured.
The expansive David Bowie
Is exhibition — an art gallery
overview full of photos,
artwork, films, fashion, videos
and much more — proved
you could remove the music
component and still be in the
presence of a unique artist who
brought together mime, stage
presentation, gender-bending
style, elegance, costumes,
sophistication, gritty clips, oddball
films, painting . . .
Muhammad Ali once said
boxing was just the way to
introduce himself to the world,
and you might say music was the
same for Bowie.
But it took a while for him to
find the persona and vehicle to
do it.
He was a scene-
borrowing chameleon in
his early years as a young
Mod, or playing that
generically English take on
black rhythm and blues.
But he didn’t stand out
until “ground control to
Major Tom” (on the same
album as some pretty
ordinary hippie-dippy stuff).
He found his confidence
and soon was referencing
Andy Warhol and Bob
Dylan, and writing, “Oh
you pretty things, you’re
drivin’ your mamas and papas insane . . .” (on
Hunky Dory).
Suddenly Bowie – then Ziggy – connected
with his audience and, despite some lesser
selling albums (like Dylan, Lou Reed and others
he often sold fewer records than his influence
might suggest), he took his
followers on the journey.
He picked up the gay, straight
and androgynous; could appear
on Soul Train for a black audience
up dancing and take Heroes to
earnest Europeans in the shadow
of the Cold War; referenced
himself with style (Ashes to
Ashes) and filmed Let’s Dance in
the Outback.
He sometimes seemed a
bit lost (Tin Machine seems
unlikely to undergo any major
reconsideration) but was always
interesting. He brought together
high art and low culture, and
wrapped them in songs which
imprinted themselves on people
across almost five decades.
He left on a high with Blackstar
and its sheer difference drives
you into his last 20 years for hints
that this might have come.
There’s nothing.
But a search allows a
rediscovery of the underrated
GOODBYE
SPACEBOY
For more reviews, interviews and
overviews by Graham Reid:
Graham Reid looks back on a career unlike any other