I don't normally feel anything for celebrity deaths. Occasionally, if the person has contributed to the arts in such a way, there's always a sadness, but modern day deaths like Michael Jackson and Amy Winehouse never brought on the mass hysteria I'd see from others or expected.
Not that they didn't deserve it, but they always seemed aloof, in a different world from Joe Public so I could never feel anything.
When David Bowie was announced dead on January 10th, I was getting ready for work on the Monday morning when tributes started pouring in on Twitter. I spent the weekend listening to Blackstar non-stop, in hype for this review (which is up above), trying to decipher it, thrilled that (spoiler alert) it turned out to be one of Bowie's best ever works and trying to word it in a way that showed how much it meant.
It's late, but it needs to be done, because, even without the passing of one of the last great actual artists in the music industry, Blackstar is a fantastic album from beginning to end.
Unlike The Next Day which saw Bowie retread a more generic type of rock 'n' roll, Blackstar is a conglomerate of jazz and art rock which sees the return of the more inventive and creative musician that Bowie became over the decades.
The ten minute opener title-track could and probably shouldn't work. A simple start with Bowie's vocals now sounding their oldest, the saxophone pulsates at an erratic melody until it crashes at the middle and the song slows down into a lovely pop song. Retrospectively, it's impossible to not see the obvious nods to Bowie's own mortality, he laments how someone will simply take his place as the proverbial Blackstar and, eventually, they too will disappear.
The re-recorded versions of 'Tis a Pity She Was a Whore and Sue (Or in a Season of Crime) sound world's apart from the single released to coincide with Nothing Has Happened. The latter in particular is thankfully shorter, with meaner guitar riffs replacing the long and unfortunately pointless bridges of saxophone. Meanwhile, the former is a more clean cut recording, although Bowie's outrageous lyrics aren't lost in the calamitous mix, where he bellows to a lover who "kept my cock!".
Bowie's outrageous side, sadly missing for many years returns in full glory on Blackstar. Girl Loves Me features a catchy vocal hook, asking "Where the fuck did Monday go?" and with verses which sound like Morrissey colliding with nadsat. Despite this, it is the weakest track on the album, but still an unbelievably catchy number and miles better than most of his other releases this century.
Lazarus, my personal favourite at the time of writing, sees Bowie return to the persona of Thomas Newton Jerome years after he fell to Earth and now possibly dying in agony. At the beginning, he's sadly desperate, but the bridge is where he ecstatically declares "I was lookin' for your ass" and the song picks up and where he (and possibly Bowie) accepts his fate and the sweet release.
One of the finer qualities of Blackstar is, at seven tracks, it's a relatively short and easy listen, even when even the shorter songs are nearly five minutes. It's the polar opposite of The Next Day and the album never outstays it's welcome, nor gets repetitious. As mentioned, even before the announcement, I was listening to Blackstar non-stop as it was such an easy ride to get through.
The final two tracks cap off the album perfectly and give a suitable send off to the final non posthumous album. Dollar Days features a now-heavy handed chorus where Bowie shouts "I'm dying to, push their backs against the grain" and overall, shows a man who was shown his own immortality and trying to get on with his life, whilst the closer I Can't Give Everything Away, starts with a throwback to A New Career in a New Town off of Low, mentions "flowered news, with skull designs on my shoes", almost certainly a reference to the outpouring of grief when news came through that he was gone.
Again, musically Blackstar is top notch, a far more inventive and catchy album than anything released by Bowie this century. At it's angriest, it's full on rock, no beautifully written riffs, just angry, repetitive droning to match the tone. At it's lightest, it's jazz influence works, evoking similar styles and tones from Young Americans and Station to Station although when both work in unison, the album shines, far brighter than any Blackstar could.
Originally, I had no qualms about rewarding Blackstar a nine. After Bowie's death which makes Blackstar a swansong by default, I had to re-evaluate it as everything changed. The now very obvious lyrics came into focus above the music. The fact that, from beginning to end, Blackstar offers several narrative points about Bowie's approaching end, all interesting and all executed to perfection.
Without the backdrop of his death, Blackstar is a superb album from beginning to end. Taking into account that it's almost certainly an actual, planned swansong, it's a masterpiece. One that will be studied decades to come, looking into the mindset of how he could come up with this and, in the face of his death, crafted something at times outrageous, other times angry and other times poignant.
But above all else, as last hurrahs go, Blackstar is a firm and bright reminder of how great an artist David Bowie was and how much of a loss he is not only to music, but the public conscious too.
So to this, Blackstar is easily, not only Bowie's best release this century, but depending on where you sit; his best album in decades.
So rest in peace David Roberts Jones
Major Tom
The Man Who Sold the World
Ziggy Stardust
Aladdin Sane
The Thin White Duke
The Man Who Fell to Earth
Pierrot
The Goblin King
The Outsider
The Heathen
The Blackstar
and to David Bowie, thank you for everything.
10/10
H
@Retcon_Nation
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