The album was originally supposed to be called “Of God and Men”, the title would be a modification of a line from “Modern Love” (it says: “in god and Man“). Of gods and men: a title like a manifesto.
David Bowie chose “Let’s Dance”, for the airy. The work was released three years after “Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps)” and ended his longest recording break to date. “Let’s Dance” is considered easy pop, “80s Bowie”, as the beginning of the phase with the bright green suits, the neon hairstyle and the unnatural facial tan.
Such classifications are also a reliable indication that one or the other may have just skimmed Bowie’s song lyrics.
It’s all in the first 18 minutes of the album, his best first 18 minutes since “Station To Station” and “Low”. Racists and fascists (“China Girl”), ultra-religious (“Modern Love”) and imperialists (“Let’s Dance”). The call to dance is a call to consumption – and with it comes doom, as the Aboriginal people experienced in David Mallet’s famous video.
In 1983 the maxi version blossomed, and Bowie, too, delved into the era of extensive passages with individually exposed instruments. The single “Let’s Dance” went to number one worldwide (his last top position until death), but it’s the longer album version that overwhelms. Instead of Bowie’s “Put on your red shoes…” wind instruments begin. Mac Gollehon and Robert Aaron on trumpet and saxon were producer Nile Rodgers’ bums, and they worked rather destructively. The song begins in soothing chaos. Everyone knows the single version without this brass debauchery. Bowie purists reject them.
In 2017, the legendary demo of “Let’s Dance” was released for the first time as a stream. It was released on vinyl at Record Store Day. She makes it clear that producer Nile Rodgers’ influence cannot be overestimated.
The Chic boss turned the acoustic guitar flamenco into a dance floor song, complete with drums that sounded fatter on no other song in history (and which Rodgers reproduced for INXS’ song “Original Sin” the following year). Dave Grohl said “Let’s Dance” is the best air drum song ever, and he’s right. The song also featured a vaudeville-like escalating “Ah-Ahh-Ahhh!” chorus. This “dance number” was hard to beat in terms of cynicism.
David Bowie on the “Serious Moonlight” tour
Stevie Ray Vaughan played guitar here and on “Cat People (Putting Out Fire)”. Bowie responded well to his critics by pointing to the “novel hybrid” his record birthed: a blend of blues-rock and dance. The best-known song lines were “Under The Moonlight… THE SERIOUS MOONLIGHT” and “Put On Your Red Shoes”, but what came after “Put On Your Red Shoes” was crucial: “… And Dance The Blues”.
With the “Serious Moonlight” concert tour, on which he presented his 15th(!) album, Bowie worked out his most successful year. Only Michael Jackson (“Thriller”) and The Police had similar success as the senior in 1983 with “Synchronicity”. He arranged the songs live almost as a medley, and classics like “Look Back In Anger” or “Golden Years” appeared in the new, sometimes big band-like arrangements as if made for the “Let’s Dance” sound.
Anyone who wanted to rehabilitate David Bowie from the 1990s onwards only had to label his respective new release with the – inflationary used – label “The best album since ‘Scary Monsters’!”, i.e. refer to the “Let’s Dance” predecessor from 1980. Which meant that Bowie is said to have released his first bad work with “Let’s Dance”.
It is precisely the diverse Bowie, which varies in style from record to record, that critics idolize. And that’s why “Let’s Dance” was also a courageous, precise and expressive work. The 36-year-old wanted the pop sound, he wanted the hits, but he also wanted to convey strong content. If you want to attack the “commercial Bowie”, you could start with “Tonight” (1984) and “Never Let Me Down” (1987). They were good albums with good themes, but with them Bowie copied the sounds of that record.
In 1983, however, David Bowie was real state of the art.