And back to the very start we go, 55 years back in time...
David Bowie (1967)
This debut album - the first time I've heard it - is said to be far different from even his first “real” album,
Space Oddity and a world removed from his later material, but all of this goes to show how much of a constantly changing personality he became, both musically and emotionally, and how he could not only tap into the latest trends as his fame grew, but also set them. Even today, with a catalogue of almost thirty albums to his credit and nearly five decades in the music business, people are still copying him, finding inspiration in his style and remembering what an incredible influence he was on them. The term “musical chameleon” seems to have been coined for him, and it certainly suits him.
But back in 1967 things were a lot different, and the young David Jones, who had changed his name to avoid confusion with the Monkees' famous star, was about to not quite burst upon the scene, but deliver an album that was not quite like anything that the world had seen before. With a mix of music styles and themes that can only really be described as “eclectic”, it opens on a sort of folky tune which owes much to Syd Barrett's Pink Floyd. “Uncle Arthur” tells the tale of a Peter Pan figure who “still reads comics” and “follows Batman”; perhaps, the eternal child in all of us, which we mostly silence when we reach adulthood. As Kipling once wrote: “When I was a child I played as a child, but when I became a man I put away childish things”. Yeah, but we all know that from time to time we love reverting to our childhood a little, don't we, even if it's only in the privacy of our own bedrooms or with a bunch of mates who feel the same, or if we're drunk enough. Uncle Arthur, it would seem, has no such hangups and, though we're not told his age (we do know it's over thirty-two), delights in all the childish things he did when he was so much younger.
The song runs on a simple guitar line with harmonica and flutes, ethnic in its way but very sixties rock and roll too, and already betraying in the lyric the tongue-in-cheek ideal Bowie would imbue much of his songwriting with. A real trip. “Sell Me a Coat” has more Beatles about it, driven on a trumpet or trombone, again quite folky and showcasing a voice which even now you could tell was something special. Nice strings arrangement and it's still uptempo though a little more restrained than the opener. The first single then, “Rubber Band” marches along on a tuba line, again sounds very Beatles to me. Very strong vocal from Bowie and some almost Mariachi style trumpet; though the song is upbeat the theme is very downbeat and it's a song of reflections and regrets. The line “I hope you break your baton!” delivered with venom at the leader of the band of which his girl is now part again shows the humour and quasi-sexual innuendo Bowie employed in his songs all through his life.
“Love You Till Tuesday” is probably the best example of a rock song on the album so far, but has a sweeping strings line too. Very brisk and breezy and upbeat with what sounds like xylophone and with another little sardonic nod as he admits at the end “Well I might stretch it to Wednesday!” Lovely piano and trumpet opening “There is a Happy Land”, a slower, more laidback piece which runs on an acoustic guitar motif and looks to the innocence of childhood, something of a theme to the album so far. Not really that surprising, as Bowie's many alter-egos down the decades always spoke of a man if not quite avoiding reality, then turning it to his own version of what he wished it to be. The relating of children's antics looks somewhat forward to Peter Gabriel's hit “Games Without Frontiers”, while “We Are Hungry Men” opens on a news report with various accents (Indian, Chinese) as Bowie worries about overpopulation of the world. A dark organ line runs through this, alongside the acoustic guitar and peppered by trumpet as Bowie asks “Who will buy a drink for me, your messiah?” Though it's a semi-comedic song there are dark overtones, as he references cannibalism and infanticide, and in ways again this also harks forward to his own dystopian masterpiece some years later,
Diamond Dogs. The sounds of someone eating at the end just underlines the dark humour in the song.
“When I Live My Dream” is a simple fantasy, a soft ballad which envisages castles and princesses and dragons, with a lovely strings accompaniment again adding a real gentle sway to the song. I suppose the two songs are polar opposites, with one envisaging the end of the world while this basks in ignorance and dreams, the ignorance of someone in love. Reminds me of some of the material from the very first Genesis album, then “Little Bombardier” is a brass-driven waltz, very oldstyle with the very embryonic beginnings of the main melody from “Ziggy Stardust” as well as a nod to the theme from Alfred Hitchcock! Some lovely sweeping strings in the midsection, and the lyric betrays a link to paedophilia, or the suspicion of it anyway when he sings “Then two gentleman called on him, asked him for his name. Why was he friends with the children? Were they just a game? Leave them alone or we'll get sore: we've had folks like you in the station before!”
A slow, stately pace then for “Silly Boy Blue”, in contrast to the romping tempo of the previous, then back to folky, almost CSNY style for “Come and Buy My Toys” (again referencing children) , with some great fast acoustic guitar before “Join the Gang” explores darker territory, looking into peer pressure and the burgeoning mod scene, but with an almost bluegrass feel to it and some boppy piano. “You won't be alone” he promises, before winking “It's a big illusion but at least you're in!” The motorbike/scooter effects sound more like someone with a bad case of wind, if I'm honest, and I think that was intentional, yet another joke. A warbling flute and accordion open “She's Got Medals” before it marches along in again very Beatles fashion with an uptempo piano and organ. Interesting vocal harmonies, also interesting that at this early stage Bowie is already pushing female figures to the fore: talk about leading the way. This continues in “Maid of Bond Street” with a whirling piano and a bouncing rhythm. A short song, and it leads to the closer where dark pealing bells and rumbling thunder aptly usher in the very weird “Please Mr. Gravedigger” which features an
acapella vocal from Bowie against falling rain, including a very funny sneeze and “Oh! Excuse me!” giving the real impression of the guy standing in the rain by a graveside singing this lament. Then we hear that he is there because he is the murderer of the girl being buried, and since he's inadvertently confessed his crime to the hapless gravedigger, it's time the guy went in one of his own graves!
TRACK LISTING
Uncle Arthur
Sell Me a Coat
Rubber Band
Love You Till Tuesday
There is a Happy Land
We Are Hungry Men
When I Live My Dream
Little Bombardier
Silly Boy Blue
Come and Buy My Toys
Join the Gang
She's Got Medals
Maid of Bond Street
Please Mr. Gravedigger
I really expected, this being his debut and so long ago, and so supposedly different from the material I know him for, that I would be very lukewarm in my reception of this, but I have to say I'm mightily impressed. There's nothing on this I don't like, and to think he was able to come up with songs of this calibre, and such a varied selection, crossing genres and styles at such an early age, marks Bowie already out as one to watch. An incredibly impressive debut.
Rating: 8.8/10