I
It will be forever and a single day
before I get to the M section of the
alphabet, so, even though I won’t
write about them, I will from time
to time listen to an album from artists
in other parts of the alphabet.
And the only reason I mention this
is because I listened to Magdalena Bay
this morning, and before I get back
to Bowie, I must finish the album.
Something there is that doesn’t like
an album listened to only partially.
But the most salient thing might be
that the first time I heard Magdalena
Bay, (it appears I am writing about them)
they were performing a cover
of Bowie’s “Ashes to Ashes” on the
video series, “Like a Version.” That,
and my son’s enthusiastic
recommendation brought this
band into the collection. I will finish
listening to sides 3 and 4 of this
record, and then, in short
order, I will pull the box set
Loving the Alien, 1983-1988 off
the shelf. Bowie became
an absolute giant for me during
this era, as a teenager and young
adult, listening to this stuff hot
off the press instead of on the
radio only or in the early days of
MTV. I distinctly remember playing
Let’s Dance for the first time
while I rehearsed my first band
in my parent’s garage, so in this
era, my music fan brain experienced
a kind of fusion with the musician
brain; I was no longer just listening,
I was playing, and incorporating
that listening into skills I could
use to do my own thing.
II
Those opening drums in “Modern
Love” clearly signal that we are now
squarely in the 80’s. Gigantic reverb.
Huge snare drums, crunchy compression.
“I don’t want to go out. I want to stay in.
Get things done.” Sure, Dave, that makes sense.
And in the out choruses, that wonderful
juxtaposition between “modern love,”
“church on time,” and “terrifies me,” or
“makes me party,” or “no
confession,” or “no religion.”
Lyrically, it’s a puzzler, but what a great
song. I’ll just say this might be the
first David Bowie on which there are
no skippable songs. Maybe the most
tuneful album in his entire oeuvre,
half the songs on the album were hits,
great, sexy vocal performances, a
monstrous and groovy collection,
and the odd, beautiful duck of “Ricochet.”
Even on what is almost purely a pop
album, he’s pushing boundaries:
“Turn the holy pictures so they face the wall.”
III
Tonight might be regarded as a kind
of sleepy album, a record with only one
hit song, “Blue Jean,” a couple of covers,
one of “God Only Knows” by the Beach Boys,
some reggae experimentation,
a couple of solid rockers, but
mostly an easy, palatable, less memorable,
less provocative record. I like it. I don’t care.
Side two is especially kick-ass.
Apparently, as almost everyone was doing
in the mid 80’s, Never Let Me Down featured
a lot of electronic drums, which after the fact,
Bowie hated. He had expressed in some
written notes, after having re-recorded a
single tune from the album, that he dreamed
of re-recording the entire record. After Bowie’s
death, a group of intrepid musicians and
producers took on the star’s dying wish. I had
completely forgotten about this, so a perusal
of the liner notes reminds me, and for this
occasion, I decide that I must listen to
both versions, back to back.
IV
The original Never Let Me Down,
1987, the most bombastically 80’s Bowie
album, every production trick of the era
is employed here. Way more rocking than
Tonight, louder, fatter, densely layered.
The drums are monstrously loud and it’s
hard to say whether or not they are real,
as everything is precisely timed to the
most exacting midi-clock. Even the
theatrical, most traditionally Bowie
“Glass Spider” has a heavy 80’s treatment.
It’s a loud record, not easy on the ears,
but consistently tuneful and brash.
Thank the gods for a click track.
It allowed the participants of the
2018 version of the album to pretty
much do whatever they wanted.
So what did they do? Recorded new
drums and guitar. Removed some
clutter. Replaced all the electronic
drums with acoustic ones. Added
some cool strings and voices.
Replaced Mickey Rourke with
Laurie Anderson. Strong choice.
The same songs, but a different record.
Mostly, they took away most
of the smell of the decade
from which it came. Most radical
transformations? “Glass Spider” and
the “Shining Star.” Is it interesting?
Yes. Is it good? Yes. Is it better?
Is it what Bowie would have wanted?
There’s no telling. But I think about
what it must have been like
for these musicians who obviously
loved the man, to have the original
tracks to play with and replace or improve
to their heart’s desire, and something
like a directive from their beloved
band leader from beyond the grave,
to make something special out of
a thing for which Bowie was
disappointed: Never let you down,
indeed.
Notes on the vinyl editions: Loving the Alien, 1983-1988, Parlaphone Records, 2018, box set, 180 gram black vinyl. Albums from the box I listened to in their entirety: Let’s Dance, Tonight, Never Let Me Down, and Never Let Me Down (2018 version). About this particular box: it includes only three studio albums. What else is here? In all three of the previous Bowie boxes, there is at least one album represented twice, the original and a contemporary remix, but in this box, radically, surprisingly, there are two distinct performances of the album Never Let Me Down, the original and a 2018 near-completely re-recorded (save for David’s lead vocals)! Also in the box, one double and one triple live album, a double album of extended dance mixes, and a triple album of single edits and outtakes. As a completist, it’s fun to have all of this material, but as a realist–it’s a bit much. I’ve likely only listened to the bonus material and the live albums one time. I’m not sure I’ve ever spun the collection of dance mixes. It’s a padded box, ultimately, and as such, was expensive–as all of these buggers were. I would have been happy with just the studio albums across the scope of Bowie’s career, but ultimately, I loved him enough and was curious enough about all the extras to take the plunge. And this new performance of Never Let Me Down is super exciting to hear–and I think, ONLY available in this collection.
If you’re late to the party, I’m attempting to listen to (almost) every record in my collection from A to Z, writing a little poem-like-thing about each artist, but finding, especially with an artist like Bowie, that there’s too much listening to be covered by one poem-like-thing. This is the fourth in a series of what will probably be FIVE poem-like-things covering most of the Bowie catalog.
michael jarmer 