Albums That Shaped Me: David Bowie, Blackstar

Blackstar is the final album David Bowie, he died shortly after its release. At the time it came out I was aware of Bowie but I hadn’t investigated his music in any depth.

In many ways, writing and talking about music is pointless as the true experience that is worth having cannot be had on the level of the intellect and conscious willing but only on what Schopenhaeur refers to as the silencing of the will through the experience of artistic beauty. However, by writing this piece I am not trying to “explain” this music. Rather, I am trying to pose questions that may lead to a deeper understanding.

My first contact with this album was the video for the title track Blackstar.

When I first heard this I was immediately hooked by the unusual structure of the song and the strangeness of the lyrics, music and video. I had only known Bowie through older material. I had no idea that he had gone through a phase of producing emotionally dark music in the 90s and that he had in the albums prior to this been experimenting with Jazz arrangements for his music (The Next Day). I was totally surprised by what I was hearing.

Blackstar is a enigmatic work that defies simple explanations. Clearly some of it is concerned with Bowie’s facing up to his own mortality and his inevitable demise. By creating this music Bowie turned his own death into a musical statement. However, there is more to explore beyond this obvious analysis. For the enigma of Blackstar lies in all the other themes and allusions that occur under the overarching concept of death. For example, in the title track the demise is cast in a positive light: towards the end the song transitions from minor to a major tonality. The concept of an enduring spirit is introduced:

Somebody else took his place, and bravely cried
(I’m a blackstar, I’m a blackstar)

Something happened on the day he died
Spirit rose a metre and stepped aside

Is this Bowie’s artistic legacy? Perhaps this symbolises the continuation of music through each generation?

The songs Sue and ‘Tis A Pity She Was A Whore do not have any obvious biographical content (if any) and seem slightly out of place in the album. The reason for them being included is something of a mystery, especially given that the far more obvious song No Plan which was recorded a part of the Blackstar sessions was not included in the final release.

The idea of a black star has something the occult about it adding the the mysterious feeling surrounding the album. For there is a reference to the star of the nativity in the first track:

I’m not a wandering star

I’m a blackstar

This interpretation is reinforced by the imagery of the music video supporting the title track which is the bizarre and disturbing. Again, borrowing from the visual language of the occult or a horror film (scarecrows, candles, spasmodic dancing, the bandages over Bowie’s eyes). This imagery may obliquely refer a fear of death or a preoccupation with the supernatural, but the abstract way in which these images are given to us does not support any one interpretation.

Musically, Blackstar represents the joining of two very different musical forces: Bowie and the musicians from what was the regular line-up of Donny McCaslin’s band. In my mind the band are something like the modern equivalent of Herbie Hancock’s Headhunters with funk influences being replaced by styles and sounds from electronic music.

What is interesting about this collaboration is that by joining forces with Bowie the musicians on this album have to be more controlled in their approach so that the music supports the vocals. This leads to there being more space in the music than on a typical record by McCaslin’s band.

Blackstar influenced me profoundly. It is one of my favourite albums of all time. It showed me that there is still an appetite amongst the public for music that defies any easy genre categorisations and demands a great deal from the listener. It is an inspiring example of artistic bravery in the face of death that deserves to be remembered.

Albums That Shaped Me: Muse, Absolution

This album was the vehicle for Muse to achieve mainstream acceptance. Many of the innovations they pioneered have since become cliché but at the time they helped revitalize my interest in heavy music.

Absolution is the most substantial achievement of their early career. The dark mood that pervades the album keeps the collection of songs thematically unified without the artificiality that plagues so many concept albums.

The guitar and bass tones of this album are monstrous and were one the catalysts for me to start exploring unorthodox sounds on the bass. For example, in Stockholm Syndrome during the guitar solo the guitar is doubled with a digital recreation of the guitar line.

Throughout Absolutions Matt Belamy adopts a variety of persona which live in the lyrics. The most obvious case being Apocalypse Please where he adopts the role of a religious fanatic. More subtly, in Thoughts of a Dying Atheist he appears to be himself but dancing closer to death. These different persona give the album an emotional depth and sophistication which can be missing from purely biographical songs. All of this being very  reminiscent of David Bowie and his every morphing identity.

Another influence from Absolution that has stayed with me is the strong relationship between the bass and drums. There is a weird funkiness that Dominic Howard and Chris Wolstenholme achieved together that left a strong impression on me. Especially, on Time is Running Out. Later in their career this quality could no longer be heard in the music as they fell under the malign influence of Queen.

Muse have now largely become a victims of their own success. In this they follow an arc that many bands have followed: early success, mainstream acceptance and finally stagnation.

I will always look back on Absolution with fond memories. It is a unique achievement that will never be replicated.

Albums That Shaped Me: D’angelo, Voodoo

I can’t remember how I first heard this album. I think I had the CD on loan from a generous neighbour. What I am certain of is that this album changed my life.

What first hit me was the undeniable chemistry between Pino Palladino and Questlove. The way that the stretched the time and rhythms freely within a song was something I had never heard before. Even on the “straighter” songs the groove they created together was ferocious whilst always supporting the rest of the music. I was at the same time captivated and baffled by what I was hearing. Years later, I am still far from totally understanding how they did it.

Voodoo represents a magical moment in time where fate aligned with opportunity. So great was the power of the music that it attracted someone like me, who could not have lived a more different life from D’angelo, to his story and his atmosphere. To me his music still sounds like it is coming from somewhere else.

With hindsight, I can see how this album was part of the musical eruption that was later name “Neo-soul”. Labels aside, the influence of Voodoo can be heard everywhere. Rhythm sections around the world can heard imitating it’s grooves and feels. Pino Palladino single-handedly brought the P-bass back into fashion and set the new standard for all to aspire.