David Bowie: The Man Who Sold The World - 1970

   

"We'd jam in a basement, and Bowie would just say whether he liked them or not" - Tony Visconti 

Perhaps even more overlooked than its predecessor, Space Oddity, this was by far Bowie's "heaviest" album. Led Zeppelin and Free were strutting all around in 1970-71 so I guess Bowie felt the need to go heavy too. Pity that his reedy voice couldn’t really match the heavy backing in the way that Robert Plant’s or Paul Rodgers’ could, though. Nevertheless, this is still a little-mentioned gem. 

Musically it is excellent, Tony Visconti's production similarly so. Mick Ronson and Mick Woodmansey from the future Spiders From Mars are in place now, with Visconti on bass. This was, to all intents and purposes, despite the album's lack of hit singles, the start of Bowie's classic seventies period that would lead to super-stardom in a matter of a couple of years. The album's music is a pretty relentless attack of blues rock mixed with a bit of slightly psychedelic folk rock. Mick Ronson's guitar leads the way with some excellent riffing and yes, Bowie's voice is affected and the lyrics often bizarre, psychological and futuristic but there is still a lot of appeal to the album's unsettling feeling. 

The impression was that Bowie would swan around, tired actor-like, coming and going and occasionally putting some idiosyncratic lyrics to the music. Bowie himself has disputed this, getting annoyed at the suggestion that he didn't write all the songs in their entirety, musically and lyrically. That said, however, he also said that the Young Americans album was created in a slightly chaotic, drugged-up fashion similar to the one producer Tony Visconti has also described, albeit with a probably more committed Bowie. 

Either way, I guess it doesn't really matter, because the finished product is actually highly cohesive and credible. What is not in doubt, however, is that this album found Bowie in a period of considerable transition, vacillating between ethereal folkie and macho rocker in a unique way that was never really repeated. It certainly makes for a most interesting set of songs, however and I find these days that I listen to it far more than Ziggy or Aladdin, really enjoying its appealing chunkiness. Looking at it now, in retrospect, it was a fine proto-Ziggy offering, whatever Bowie thought of it. 

Let's join all the madmen....

On to the music itself in more detail. The new 2015 remastering is top notch. It has a great bass sound on the wonderful, drawn-out intro to this truly magnificent, eight minute opener, The Width Of A Circle. This was one of Bowie's first true drawn-out beguiling classics. The drums and Tony Visconti’s impressive bass are to the fore on this track and it builds up slowly with some enticing bass and crystal clear acoustic guitar before some seriously heavy drums kick in, followed by Mick Ronson's marvellously cutting guitar, which is all over the track. It is most definitely Bowie's heaviest number thus far. Lyrically, it is the usual encyclopaedia of references, pronouncements and images, including mystic philosopher Kahlil Gibran and Bowie telling us that "God's a young man too". It is a veritable cornucopia of all sorts of stuff and multiple changes of musical pace and ambience. A memory of it, for me, as a young Bowie fan in the seventies, was seeing the documentary Cracked Actor, I think, advertised with a clip from Hammersmith in 1973 of Bowie singing the line "my knees were shaking, my cheeks aflame.." from this song.

Insanity is a theme that runs right through the heart of this album and it is central to the sad, haunting All The Madmen. The song is initially backed by flute and acoustic guitar but breaks out with some solid drums, heavy rock guitar and that big, rumbling Visconti bass again. Bowie has said that it was written directly about, and for, his half-brother Terry. Themes of mental health run all through it. It was another heavy track that clearly showed Bowie's new direction. It also has an impressive synthesiser riff (Mick Ronson plays both lead guitar and synthesiser). There is something of The Beatles' late sixties work in the chants and noises in the final fade out. 

For Black Country Rock, another heavy backing is to be found on this T. Rex-ish rock number. Bowie intentionally wanted to sound like Bolan. At the time he felt himself the inferior of his friend and wanted to musically and vocally emulate him. Several Bolan-esque vocal quirks occur throughout the song and Visconti contributes a rubbery bass line, especially near the end. The 2020 Tony Visconti remixed version of the song includes some previously hidden burbled vocal Bolanisms from Bowie during its final minute. 

The subject of mental health is visited again on After All, even more so, on what was a quirky, asylum-inspired acoustic number, with an oddball, haunting "oh by jingo" chanted refrain. The Space Oddity stylophone makes a re-appearance. There is a very Beatles-esque pipe organ (Moog synthesiser?) part in the middle. It is a genuinely disturbing song in many ways, full of atmosphere, though, and seems to be another example of Bowie's post-hippy disillusion. 

A slight hark back to the Space Oddity album's feel is to be found now, and although somewhat heavier, Running Gun Blues has Bowie starting in a plaintive voice similar to that he used in the 1966-67 period, until it launches into a chugging piece of solid, heavy rock. In some ways it is not dissimilar to Unwashed And Somewhat Slightly Dazed. Ronson's strong guitar lines and some muscular drums kick it firmly along while lyrically it was inspired by the true story of a Vietnam veteran who went crazy and ran amok with a gun "plugging a few civilians". It marked one of the first times that the previously very English Bowie referenced events that happened in America as opposed to South London or the Home Counties. American references would soon become manifold in his songs. Incidentally, the "promote oblivion" line, and its diction, is very much Hunky Dory. 

Saviour Machine, unusually, "fades in" and is another heavily-backed rock song but with some more of that afore-mentioned feel of the Space Oddity material about it, together with a vague hint of Big Brother from Diamond Dogs, particularly in the synthesiser (?) break in the middle and the lyrical reference to a Major Tom-Halloween Jack type character called "President Joe". There are aspects of futurism in the computer takeover of the lyrics that would be explored much more fully on Diamond Dogs and beyond. The concept of a flawed saviour or leader is also one that Bowie was fond of. Ronson's guitar solo is very early seventies in its style. Again, the track is full of excellent guitar, bass and drums. Bowie's voice, despite its high pitch, is also getting stronger and stronger and able to cope with this heavier rock sound, although at times it still sounds a little muffled. 

She Shook Me Cold was definitely the album's heaviest track. It is influenced by Jeff Beck, Black Sabbath and Jimi Hendrix, while there are blatant hints of Led Zeppelin in there, in more than just the title (Zeppelin had You Shook Me on their 1969 debut album). Apparently Bowie recorded it as a concession to Ronson and drummer Mick Woodmansey, who were into this sort of heavy jamming thing. The guitar and drum interplay at the end is excellent and by far the heaviest passage of any Bowie track. The lines "She sucked my dormant will" and "broke the hearts of many young virgins" serve as examples of the slightly misogynistic nature of the song, with Bowie in a more aggressive masculine persona than was usual. This was also done for Ronson and Woodmansey's benefit, according to Bowie. They duly loved the song, he said. I'm not sure Bowie himself did, though.  

The title track was a change in pace and style from the rest of the album, being a catchy melodic rock number with a hoarse-sounding, echoey vocal from Bowie, some infectious "cheese-grater" percussion, stunning deep bass lines and an addictive refrain. What was it all about? There are many theories. My late mother, who was a Bowie fan in her late forties at the time, insisted it was about Jesus Christ. I have not seen that interpretation anywhere, but I kind of like my Mum's take on it, and could see what she meant - "you must have died alone, a long long time ago...". Hmm. Maybe.

The Supermen was a mysterious, brooding, atmospheric and at times bombastic (percussion wise) track to end the album on. Lyrically, it once again visited other world and futuristic concepts. There are two versions of the song - a gentler and arguably more attractive one was recorded for the Hunky Dory sessions. 

Musically, Bowie would return to acoustic, folky rock for the next album, Hunky Dory, and we would never hear him play material like this again.

Incidentally, I much prefer the black and white “high kick” cover (shown at the beginning of this review) that we had in the UK when this was re-released in 1972 to the “man in a dress” one now used. That was the one I grew up with, as I said for the 1973 cover of Space Oddity. Yes I know the picture is from the Ziggy era, but for me the album is always that black cover with the circle of vinyl wear showing through. That is how I remember is when I retrospectively got into it in the summer of 1973. The US cartoon-ish cover artwork is, quite frankly, bizarre. Apparently, Bowie had used this image before, in his Beckenham Arts Lab days. The black and white cover seems to suit the album's ambience much better, I feel.

There was also a re-recorded version of The Supermen that was laid down in 1971. It doesn't have the big, rolling, tympani-style drums of the original nor the sonorous backing vocals. Neither is Bowie's vocal anywhere near so mannered or theatrically high-pitched. This alternate version is pretty Ziggy in many ways, featuring gentle acoustic verses and a far more melodic, tender vocal from Bowie before a big Mick Ronson guitar interjection leads into a robust, solid, riffy chorus. It is very Spiders in its instrumentation and indeed, this is the version Bowie would subsequently play live. Which do I prefer? Both have good points, but if I had to make a choice at gun-point, it would always be this rocky alternate version.

Holy Holy was originally recorded in 1970 and in this form it is a very sixties-sounding, early T. Rex-influenced number, driven along mainly by Herbie Flowers' inventive bass, drums and backing vocals with the lead guitar considerably down in the mix and featuring a very typically late sixties Bowie vocal. it sounds in this form a lot like the final, superior material from the stuff that appeared on the Deluxe Edition of David Bowie, once Bowie had started to record some credible songs. It was actually released as a single and duly disappeared without trace. It was re-recorded for the Ziggy Stardust sessions (see that album's review for comments on that version).

** Also of interest is the companion box set The Width Of A Circle. Click on the title.