Reclusive David Bowie is back with The Next Day, a tantalizing new album reviewed on New Music
New album a decidedly mixed bag
“Reclusive David Bowie emerges in rare sighting as he heads for lunch in New York ... and he’s smiling again,” trumpeted a headline on the Daily Mail’s website, complete with photos of ol’ Ziggy Stardust strolling along the streets of New York in a rather ordinary getup of jeans, shades and cap.
Those same images, taken last October, prompted an entirely different reaction from another British paper. “David Bowie: singer’s pale appearance ignites health fears,” lamented The Telegraph.
As we all know now, he wasn’t hiding from the limelight, or worse, sick. Instead, the 66-year-old chameleon was working on The Next Day, a tantalizing album about art, aging, loneliness and identity — with references to his ’70s Berlin era, his spaceman songs and, perhaps, his current status as a happily married man and father in New York.
The opening number, however, is far from a blissful ditty. “Here I am, not quite dying / My body left to rot in a hollow tree,” he angrily spits on the title track, a fist-shaker with cranky guitar riffs, accusatory tambourines, and slowly building strings.
After a 10-year gap between albums, his vocal cords might not be the smooth, strong muscles they once were — thin and reedy are better descriptions — but he doesn’t let his limitations stop him from playing with his pipes. (You Will) Set The World On Fire, which kicks off with some astounding arena-ready kerrangs, features Bowie preening like a rock star. On Heat, a pseudo-orchestral number, he starts off as a feeble opera singer, then slowly transforms into a warm and steady crooner. “I am a seer / And I am a liar,” he sings. “My father ran the prison.”
A few of The Next Day’s tunes, unfortunately, should be locked in some sort of jail of songs. (Peni-tune-tiary?) Clad in angsty percussion, careening riffs, and a cacophony of guest vocals intermingling with Bowie’s drones, If You Can See Me, Dancing Out In Space and How Does The Grass Go? don’t quite feel like they fit their musical clothes. (Perhaps they simply need to remove a few layers.)
Much more flattering are Boss of Me, a skronking sax number, and Valentine’s Day, with hints of 1980’s Ashes To Ashes, which in turn was a sequel to 1969’s Space Oddity.
Love Is Lost, a smouldering organ elegy, also feels like a throwback — to Bowie’s first days in Berlin. Yet he doesn’t seem remorseful or decrepit; he sounds like he’s simply looking at old photos and trying to reconnect with his younger self.
“Your maid is new and your accent too,” he sings. “But your fear is as old as the world / Say goodbye to the life without pain.”
The Next Day doesn’t feel quite as cohesive or existentially powerful as Nick Cave’s latest masterpiece, Push The Sky Away, but Bowie proves he’s still a vibrant and vital force in rock ’n’ roll.
He may not ever perform again — some of his bandmates say there’s a 50-50 chance of a tour — but we all should know better when it comes to making speculations about Bowie.