I started David Bowie in the final days of December 2020. Bowie is a little inconsistent with releasing worthwhile albums, but he has a lot of good material. Here's what I recommend checking out: Hunky Dory, Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, and Station to Station before exploring anything else that Bowie released. If you like him enough afterwards, check out Low to Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) (a streak of somewhat experimental albums), including the superb live album Stage.
David Bowie (1967): C-
Space Oddity (1969): C+
The Man Who Sold the World (1970): B-
Hunky Dory (1971): A-
Aladdin Sane (1973): B+
Pin Ups (1973): C
Diamond Dogs (1974): C+
David Live (1974): C
Young Americans (1975): B-
Station to Station (1976): A [Originally: A-]
Low (1977): B
"Heroes" (1977): B
Stage (1978): B
Lodger (1979): B+
Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) (1980): A-
Let's Dance (1983): C+
Blackstar (2016): B
David Bowie (1967):
This is a confused and terrible hodgepodge of Pink Floyd's The Piper at the Gates of Dawn and the Beatles' Sgt Pepper that doesn't give the slightest hint that Bowie will become anything. The decent parts of the album are the good guitar strumming on "Come and Buy My Toys" and the nice bass line on "She's Got Medals" but both have unlistenable sing-song vocal melodies. Bowie is writing about some interesting topics--which is the one plus on this failure--but their lyrics are rendered valueless by his crude musical experimentation. The worst debut from a major artist I've ever heard--thank God Lou Reed would show him the way. C-
Space Oddity (1969):
Not only does this have little resemblance to his debut--which is good, obviously--this is a significantly more focused album. With more resources and a higher budget, Bowie over-embellishes pretty much every song, but the acoustic guitar at the basis of the songs is a step in the right direction and the harmonica rave-up at the end of "Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed" is a worthwhile moment outside of the only two strong songs "Space Oddity" and "God Knows I'm Good." Another step forward: the pretentious messes that are the nine minute "Cygnet Committee" and seven minute "Memory of a Free Festival" are the only two contemptible songs. C+
The Man Who Sold the World (1970):
Bowie's first musically competent album. Given this, the cult following it has, and knowing the superstar he would become, I listened to this seven times before I decided it was exactly what it sounded like upon first listen: merely competent. However, it's clear more than ever before that Bowie's a mad genius on the brink of a breakthrough--"Cygnet Committee" from Space Oddity was purely kitsch but "The Width of the Circle" tells a bizarre and cohesive tale worthy of a Dylan admirer with a messy but forgivable instrumental. Additionally, "The Man Who Sold the World" is his first excellent song. If he begins writing tighter-arranged and more memorable songs as well as checks the speedy and overwrought guitar work of Mick Ronson, who only contributes a solo of substance on "Saviour Machine," he'll start putting his eccentricity to good use. B-
Hunky Dory (1971):
Like Neil Young's After the Gold Rush and Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run, the piano at the basis of the album has unveiled Bowie's brilliance at songwriting. The lyrics are unique and evocative ("Eight Line Poem"), the music is as vivid and colorful as the album cover ("Life on Mars?"), and Bowie's voice beautifully serves both ("Oh! You Pretty Things"). The new direction also keeps Mick Ronson's guitar contributions subtle, used mostly for added texture. Although I dislike the sentiment expressed on "Song for Dylan," the three tribute songs--"Andy Warhol" most especially--nicely wrap up his only worthwhile album so far. A-
Although the album is just as pretentious as The Man Who Sold The World, Bowie has started to earn some pretentions and musically this is hard to deny. The concept is impressive--and even more ambitious--and fortunately, unlike most concept albums, Ziggy Stardust doesn't squander the majority of its lyrics on plot. However, even a very loose narrative doesn't save the lyrical topics from being mostly limited and uninteresting. Indeed, not a single lyric is close to being as impressive as "Life on Mars?," "Eight Line Poem," or even the early "The Width of a Circle." Although only a slight step up from Hunky Dory, there are notable improvements such as Mick Ronson's guitar playing--check out the solo that ends "Moonage Daydream." B+
Aladdin Sane (1973):
The historical and cultural significance of Ziggy Stardust brought out a sense of duty in me to thoroughly analyze each lyric and understand the story in and out. Because Aladdin Sane is without such reputation, I found it impossible to repeat this exercise because I have little interest in diving into Bowie's world that is twisted just for the thrill of it. He may well explore interesting and daring topics--drugs, violence, sexuality, etc.--but his imagery is limited and the gravity and substance of the words crumble without the music by its side. As music though, this album rocks and it rocks with more precision than anything he's released so far--Mick Ronson has really become a substantive and important part of the band. A worthwhile rock and roll album and, fortunately for Bowie, it functions perfectly well without an interesting conceptual net. B+
Pin Ups (1973):
With the quality of his past three albums, Bowie should really be in top form and, even though it was unlikely to be on the level of Aladdin Sane, this should have an pleasant detour and easy-going, fun project. Instead, Bowie sounds intent on being provocative and coming off as completely irreverent to the source material. Although Bowie gets away with it occasionally--"I Wish You Would" and "I Can't Explain" are given new life--I hope he's embarrassed by his interpretation of "See Emily Play." Most of the other songs similarly fail, but to a lesser extent. C
Diamond Dogs (1974):
I already mentioned my general disinterest in Bowie's conceptual ideas, which continues onto this project, but Bowie has compensated for this by being quite the melody-maker since Hunky Dory. However, the music of Diamond Dogs, at its best on side two, is merely competent. It's also self-indulgent and indistinguishable--"Rebel Rebel" feels out of place because it's good. C+
David Live (1974):
I don't know why Bowie had to make this all so complicated. His past four albums of original material--yes, even some of Diamond Dogs--are teeming with songs waiting to be interpreted in a hard rock live setting. Just make a rock'n'roll record. C
Young Americans (1975):
Although the foundation of the project--not the direction, which shows its full potential on the highlights, but simply the majority of the songs--is wobbly at best, Bowie nevertheless has turned out two excellent tracks: "Young Americans," which represents a return to the surreal lyricism he's best at, and "Fame." The rest of the album, nearly hidden by excellent saxophone and impressive production, lacks indelible songwriting and appealing melodies, which makes Bowie's rubbish cover of "Across the Universe" all the more confusing. B-
Station to Station (1976):
Before this, Aladdin Sane featured the best rock'n'roll on any Bowie album and I was so impressed at the time that I praised Mick Ronson for becoming an integral member of the band. Although he indeed had, it's good he's been gone since '73 because Ronson wouldn't have been able to keep up by this time. True, Bowie has never written with such complexity but he's also relying on pure riff power, a concept first introduced on "Rebel Rebel." That concept reaches its full potential on Station to Station, which is no far cry from the density of Exile on Main St. In general though, the album could have benefitted from shorter songs--especially the ten minute title track, which is the weakest song--but Bowie's detached vocal performance, the excellent studio work, and the dynamic song structures result in his most impressive album, which never seems to become more familiar to my ears. A
Low (1977):
Side one isn't the best music he's ever put out--"Sound and Vision" is pretty dope though--but it has some of the density of Station to Station so it becomes one of Bowie's better halves of an album. Side two, composed mostly of instrumentals inspired by or co-written by Brian Eno, is about the dullest excursion Bowie could have gone on at this point in his career. The songs are mostly uninteresting and it's also a terrible change of pace for the album. Not the best introduction I could have had to Eno either. B
"Heroes" (1977):
Bowie's instrumentals inspired by Eno have gotten more mature, but they're no more gratifying. The nice thing though is that they make up less than half of the album and they're interspaced with regular songs. Unlike Low, which was replete with enjoyable song-bites I can't remember the names of, the triumphs of "Heroes" are a few individual songs including the title track, which is no doubt among Bowie's greatest songs. The rest is disappointing, but improves with listening. B
Stage (1978):
After the disastrous David Live, this is not only a sigh of relief but one of the best live albums I've heard in 2021 so far (it's mid-March). The Eno-inspired instrumentals are surprisingly strong in the live setting--not a snooze-fest like I predicted--and the classics are remarkably satisfying. Even the synthesizer sounds solid. B
Lodger (1979):
The last album of the Berlin Trilogy doesn't have a song close to being as good as "Heroes" or a side as good as the fragments on Low, so what makes it the best? Basically, it comes down to the fact that, through a few bad songs or a poorly ordered track list, I see little point in listening to the first two installments all the way through again though undoubtedly I will. Here, Bowie properly disperses the best songs and his quirky songs have matured to the point where I enjoy them sometimes more than his more conventional songs--"Yassassin" and "D.J." are two of my favorites. Plus, the instrumental tracks, which would have been best served on its own singular album, are gone. B+
Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) (1980):
I've been pretty quick to dismiss Bowie's most out-there work but since the preceding Lodger, Bowie's most convincing writing has been the unconventional songs and Scary Monsters is teeming with such material. Robert Fripp's guitar is awesome over the electropop/new wave instrumentals and nicely adds layers of contrast and friction to the songs. His guitar is so consistently excellent, in fact, that this overthrows Station to Station as being the Bowie album with the best guitar work. Though it fails to maintain the quality of Station to Station, it consistently has songwriting that bests Hunky Dory, which I always thought was a weak second best album for Bowie--I mean shit, Ziggy Stardust was a greater artistic triumph even though it was immersed in a musical style I have little affinity for. A-
Let's Dance (1983):
After the first three songs, the album changes from being moderately enjoyable to showcasing Bowie's worst tracks since Diamond Dogs. Mostly the songs are just indistinct but Bowie also puts too much energy into making the album sound commercial because the decent hooks diminish in power from the generic production. Still, the album would be a decent effort if the songs were shorter in length--even the first three tracks would have been best served under four minutes each. C+
Blackstar (2016):
Though both this and Ziggy Stardust have musical directions I have no natural affinity for, Ziggy Stardust at least resembled rock'n'roll enough for me to come close to enjoying it as much as I think others do. I feel much more on the outside here. Although the lyrics, which constantly face death head-on, are interesting to follow, I feel malnourished from the melodies outside of "Lazarus," which has a great bass line and screeching guitar, and "Girl Loves Me," whose lyrics get me every time. A masterpiece, I guess, but for a very special pallet. Anyway, “Blackstar” and “Lazarus” are best enjoyed and experienced by watching the creepy music videos. B
