Review Summary: Bowie's first truly mystifying experience may not be short on mistakes, but the highlights here cannot be overrated.
After the completion of
Hunky Dory, Bowie was probably feeling a lot like Darth Vader, powerful and undefeatable; “…the circle is now complete. When I left
The Man Who Sold The World sessions I was but the learner, now
I am the master”. Truly, this is the first David Bowie album where he manages to dazzle and fascinate in the usual manner of his, taking the foundations of the previous release (solid melodies, album-oriented philosophy, iconic backing ensembles) and polishing them with care.
For one, it’s certainly his most diverse release up to that date. Where the previous record was essentially drenched in a proto-metal and hard rock atmosphere with a few psychedelic touches here and there,
Hunky Dory broadens its musical canvas by exploring folk, piano pop, glam, and Velvet-esque rock’n’roll along the way. Even more notable is the way the diversity is achieved; the full of multi-instrumentalists backing group Spiders From Mars is essentially complete plus Rick Wakeman joins the party, which means elaborate, luxurious arrangements for elaborate, luxurious gems. The intense string sections and the dramatic, cold piano lines give
Life On Mars? and
Kooks the trademark theatrical charm of early seventies Bowie, while
Queen Bitch revolves around huge amounts of distortion on top of a Spartan line-up to give the listener the required visceral thrills.
Even more important is the advanced songwriting found here. David steps in the arena with two winners in
Changes and
Oh! You Pretty Things, two power pop sing-alongs that boast naturally charming choruses, before blowing every mind away with the spectacularly constructed epic,
Life On Mars?. He even proves his melodic chops on the beautiful glam folk (a term I just made up!)
Quicksand that slowly transforms from a Dylan-esque ballad to an uplifting anthem near the two minute mark, thus making the transition even more impactful. Elsewhere, you can find him folk-rocking with a terrific riff to boot in
Andy Warhol or making his best Lou Reed impersonation during the rollicking
Queen Bitch. All is good.
And yet, I usually find myself in the uncomfortable position of old Ben Kenobi when taking a closer look upon the album’s material; “Only a master of the choruses, Darth Bowie” is my main reaction. I know fans will probably crucify me and then spit on my dead body for saying this, but I always treated
Changes and
Oh! You Pretty Things as “the classics without verses”. Both songs are structured in the same way; quiet, piano-driven verses that serve only as build ups for the magnificent choruses. The antithesis works well on the emotional aspect, but the actual melodicity of the verses leaves something to be desired.
Additionally, I find a relative amount of filler hanging over the edges.
Eight Line Poem and
Fill Your Heart are redundant to the extreme in every aspect,
Song For Bob Dylan is your average Bob Dylan number with little else going on about it, while
The Bewlay Brothers is interesting lyrically, but not very engaging melodically. And if you find the lack of deeper criticism regarding those songs a sign of their actual greatness, let me just tell you that this is why they will always be fillers in my book. There is really no reason to hate them, but is there also any reason to love them? Hardly.
Thus, while the better material here is classic Bowie without doubt, there is still room for improvement. The fillers, despite not being offensive at all, take up 17 minutes of potential room for better compositions, while the actual songwriting is, sometimes, not as air-tight as on subsequent releases. Whatever my reservations, though, there is no denying this is the first milestone in his career, so approach this record without a single doubt in your mind.
