essential
Hunky Dory (1971)
The astronaut was back on Earth, and he was now back to earthly obsessions. After “Space Oddity”, published five days before the first moon landing in 1969, the flower children’s nostalgia “Memory Of A Free Festival” and the Nietzsche reflections in “The Man Who Sold The World”, Bowie was considered both a visionary and a dreamer. Now, like Satanist Aleister Crowley, he dressed up as an Egyptian priest of the Eleusis rites. phew Above all, “Hunky Dory” is a contemplation of geniuses (“Andy Warhol”) told in associative rhymes and an expression of disappointment at the sell-out of art “Life On Mars? ’ ends pompously and ironically with the drumbeats of ‘Also Sprach Zarathustra’, taken as an anthem by space agers. In “Quicksand,” Bowie anticipates the Ziggy Stardust fear that sooner or later a persona will degenerate into a caricature.
Young Americans (1975)
“It’s hip to be alive”: That’s how he wrote the lyrics of “Win”. Survival as a pop culture statement, a perverted “life for art”. He stopped eating and took more drugs to find a new direction. At the Grammys, Yoko Ono no longer recognized Bowie in the emaciated Nosferatu. He called the songs about “Afro-Sheilas” “Plastic Soul”, but that’s nonsense. No white man made better soul back then. “Fascination” trumps “Funky Music,” the template of collaborator Luther Vandross. In addition, congenial work with the singers Ava Cherry and Robin Clark – he was closer to nobody in the studio.
Station to Station (1976)
He described his fictional character Thin White Duke as a bard who sings about romance but feels nothing. He drew occult symbols on the floor of his mansion, took carriages through Hollywood and never got out of the car out of fear. In the title song he finally and for the first time mentions “Cocaine”, later he jokingly exposed the struggle with his grandiose concepts as a junkie planlessness in the stage talk: “Are the dead interested in the concerns of the living? Can I change the TV channel without using the remote control? All of that was enough for his most gripping songs.
Low (1997)
Also released in 1977, Heroes had the anthem. But “Low” was the pioneer. 38 minutes, 11 tracks, only five with vocals, totaling just 14 minutes. The year punk swept the world, Tony Visconti and Brian Eno piled high on harmonizers for puffing, sizzling music like something out of Jules Verne’s miracle machine. “Don’t you wonder sometimes about sound and vision? ‘ Bowie asks between all the air pumps. The anti-statements differentiated him from punk, but also from his own art rock. In “Station To Station” he heaved incredible amounts of text into long songs, but now he came up with a language: “Mmmm-mm-ommm/ Helibo seyoman Cheli venco raero.”
Rewarding
Ziggy Stardust (1972)
“The Rise and Fall” not only from “Ziggy Stardust”, but also from “Spiders From Mars”, as the longer title says, is considered a masterpiece of glam rock. Marc Bolan was earlier with this music, but the amazing thing is that Bowie didn’t infuse his alien “Starman” with space atmospheres, but with classic rock ‘n’ roll. “Moonage Daydream” combined vulgar hipster slang (“Press your space face close to mine, love”) with Mick Ronson’s orgiastic guitar solo. This should never have ended. Because it fades out, it still keeps firing its ray gun in its head to this day.
Let’s Dance (1983)
The engagement of former Chic guitarist Nile Rodgers was bold – after all, Bowie had tried his hand at post-punk with great success with the predecessor, “Scary Monsters”. Rodgers has now thanked him with the production of a drum sound that is unparalleled next to Phil Collins’ gated reverb sound. Songs about racism (“China Girl”) and anti-capitalism (“Let’s Dance”). The call to dance is a call to consumption – and with it comes corruption, as Aboriginal people also experience in David Mallet’s famous video. People still laugh – because the album is called what it is called. If it were titled “In God And Man” (taken from a line from the song “Modern Love”) as originally planned, its size would no doubt be more apparent.
The Next Day (2013)
“Blackstar” received more jubilant reviews. It was published on Bowie’s last birthday and two days before his death, which was considered a supernatural coincidence. But his comeback album has better material. In “The Stars (Are Out Tonight)” he asked before “Lazarus” whether pop stars can be immortal. Nevertheless, it has not become a late work, no retrospect. Bowie staged himself more as a chronicler of the fates of others, in the trenches of World War I, at the witch burnings in the Middle Ages or at a high school massacre. No album for ten years, and then one in which he hardly explains himself: For Bowie it was simply “the next day”.
supplementary
Black Tie White Noise (1993)
“Play like the ’50s never happened!” Bowie instructed producer Nile Rodgers before his outrageous nine-second guitar solo on “Miracle Goodnight.” As if “white” music had never been influenced by “black”. A bold, not entirely successful attempt to redefine futuristic pop.
Earthlings (1997)
For the first time he was chasing a trend, Drum and Bass was dying out in 1997. But “Looking For Satellites” and “Little Wonder” were bigger than their beat. Bowie sang about “Seven Years In Tibet” in Free Tibet year and wore an Alexander McQueen Union Jack coat – to show Cool Britannia euphorics who was still the King of England here.
Weaker
Diamond Dogs (1974)
Far from the weakest, but the most disappointing work. Glam (“Rebel Rebel”) was already as through as his mullet on the record cover, the pre-disco (“1984”) too hectic, and the Orwell stage concept seemed ambitious, but Bowie’s Big Brother admonitions no longer wanted with Watergate get in touch.
Movie
The Prestige (2006)
First film appearance in 2006 after the heart attack: David Bowie embodies the electricity pioneer Nikola Tesla. Director Christopher Nolan presents Bowie as it should be: as a rock star with a gigantic first appearance. Tesla marches across a stage towards the stunned Hugh Jackman, lightning flashing from a (disco) ball above him.
gems
rarities and obscurities
“Abdulmajid”
Supposed “Low” holdover, appeared on the 1991 reissues and messed up with industrial sound additions. “Abdulmajid” is the surname of Bowie’s widow Iman, whom he didn’t even know in 1976.
“Some Are”
“Low” outtake which, unlike all of the album songs, referred to Bowie’s stage costume at the time: the “Sailor”.
“Leon Suites”
Just as fancy as the “1. Outside” album are these three unreleased steampunk sketches totaling 71 minutes.
“Black Noise Bomb”
In an interview with Dick Cavett in 1974, he shyly announced that he owned an explosive device that would wipe out entire cities: “The patent was in France – four dollars.” It is said that Bowie was high, but that denied him any determination.
“Mantra Studios Broadcast 1977”
Bowie accompanied Iggy Pop as a touring pianist, perhaps also to oversee the implementation of the albums he produced, The Idiot and Lust For Life. radio recording.
“CoolCat”
From the “Under Pressure” sessions. Bowie withdrew his vocals—all he could think of was to counter Freddie Mercury’s falsetto with monotonous chanting. It then appeared without him on Hot Space.
“Heroes (Live Aid)”
Best version of the classic. Thomas Dolby assembled the band in a hurry, they only rehearsed Bowie’s set four times. He played the comet tail guitar melody on the keyboard.
“TVC 15 (Live Aid)”
Set opener at a charity event that millions would watch on TV with an old, self-referential not-hit about the paranoia of a junkie who thinks the TV is a monster. Crazy!
“The London Boys”
From the unreleased 2000 album Toy. Re-recording of his 1965 song about a teenage bumpkin who wants to make it big in Swinging London but becomes a victim of addiction.
“Aegean Fantasy”
For “As The World Falls Down,” Bowie was clearly “inspired” by Haruomi Hosono’s ode to Greece.