Published on Nov 10, 2005
This is where most people believe David Bowie’s career really
began. Despite the loads of music he recorded prior to
Space Oddity, I can see why they might think that. It was
his first widely distributed and marketed release, and around this
time he started wearing makeup, weird clothes, and dresses, always
keeping a keen eye on
Alice Cooper‘s trendsetting
developments, the knave.
Of course, the biggest change came in the music itself, and the
title track became his first massive hit and remains one of his
signature songs. It certainly is a magnificent song which ushered
in his legendary space rock persona, and is the perfect way to open
an album. It shows strength and focus as the ultimate prelude to
the new adventure immediately ahead – or not.
Turns out it’s the only really great song on the album. What a
disappointment. I can’t think of another album that starts off with
a masterpiece only to be followed by an avalanche of mediocrity.
It’s like acing your opponent and then double faulting four times
in a row, if you’ll forgive the crude analogy.
After finding the perfect style with the floating, spacey
atmosphere of “Space Oddity,” Bowie then spends the rest of the
album dishing out boring folk-pop with badly underwritten melodies
and generic acoustic strumming.
I shouldn’t be so mean. It’s not THAT bad. Tracks like the
redneck stomp “Unwashed And Somewhat Slightly Dazed” (sounds right
up Lynyrd Skynyrd’s alley, dunnit?) are decent if overlong, and
even have some filthy electric guitar licks, which had been absent
from his work for several years.
But man oh man, do utterly pointless songs like “Letter To
Hermione,” “Janine” and “An Occasional Dream” bore me to death.
Maybe the most offensive one is “Cygnet Committee,” which got me
all excited about expecting an epic upon seeing its almost 10
minute running time, but like the other duds, it’s mellow
throughout and drones on endlessly with hardly any changes. Very
lazy stuff. “Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud” continues in the same
vein but at least has a more interesting chorus and some neat harp
runs here and there.
Too bad that it takes until the end of the album for Bowie to
find his songwriting chops again. “God Knows I’m Good” is a superb
little campfire ditty, and the proceedings come to an end with the
rousing and uplifting “Memory Of A Free Festival.” It’s pretty hard
not to get goosebumps as the line “the sun machine is coming down,
and we’re gonna have a party” gets repeated endlessly with ever
more voices joining in until it sounds like a cast of thousands
holding hands in a gigantic swaying sing-a-long that perfectly
celebrates the atmosphere of an open air hippiefest.
Too bad it’s such an obvious “Hey Jude” ripoff.