David Bowie: Space Oddity (aka David Bowie) - 1969
"A messianic figure who breaks down barriers for his younger followers, but finds that he has only provided them with the means to reject and destroy him" - David Bowie
David Bowie released this album in the aftermath of an unexpected chart-topping success with his single Space Oddity. This track, with its space travel narrative, coincided with the momentous moon landings of that summer. Regrettably, the subsequent album failed to achieve comparable commercial success. Bowie’s forays into folk, vague psychedelia, and nostalgic hippie influences did not resonate with the broader music-buying audience.
Despite the acclaim of a number one single, Bowie encountered numerous obstacles on his path to potential stardom. This release stands as yet another instance of these challenges. It almost appears as if Bowie himself was grappling with conflicting aspirations: to remain rooted in the musical landscape of 1966-67 or to boldly explore the artistic frontiers of 1972-73. This album serves as a vivid reflection of his inner struggle and creative turbulence.
Many people purchased this album, myself included, back in 1973 when it was re-released with a cover featuring Ziggy-like hair. The re-packaging followed the success of Bowie's albums Hunky Dory, Ziggy Stardust, and Aladdin Sane. At the time, many teenagers, myself included, were unsure of what to make of it. Originally released in 1969, the album represented more than just a platform for the iconic and distinct title track. It showcased unrealised potential alongside some inconsistencies.
Ground control to Major Tom....
Moving on to Unwashed And Somewhat Slightly Dazed, the track exhibits impressive psychedelic-infused rock elements. With each listening experience, my appreciation for this piece grows. Contrary to popular belief, the searing guitar solo was not played by Mick Ronson but by Tim Renwick. The bluesy harmonica throughout the track was skilfully executed by Benny Marshall. The song begins gently, with Bowie's ethereal vocals singing the line "spy, spy pretty girl" over an acoustic guitar backdrop, creating the impression of another dreamy composition reminiscent of his earlier works from 1967-68. However, within minutes, a thunderous and bluesy rock rhythm takes over, making it Bowie's heaviest song up until that point. The lyrics, albeit peculiar - "I'm a phallus in pigtails" - and the mention of a credit card, which was unusual for 1969, further contribute to its uniqueness. Undoubtedly, it is an excellent track.
Next up is Letter To Hermione, a genuine love song from Bowie to one of his early loves, Hermione Farthingale, with whom he eventually ended the relationship due to his self-admitted promiscuity. It is a gentle and tender acoustic number showcasing Bowie's vulnerability. Lines like "I'm not quite sure what you're supposed to say" reflect the singer's emotional confusion. While slightly jealous of Hermione's new lover, Bowie settles for the compromise of expressing his love through a heartfelt written message. The song features delicate acoustic guitar melodies that beautifully complement Bowie's soft, airy vocals. Throughout his entire career, Bowie rarely displayed such sincerity and disarming vulnerability, making it a truly exceptional and captivating piece.
Equally enchanting are the winsome and folky melodies of Janine. The crystal-clear and razor-sharp acoustic guitar adds charm to the composition. The line referring to a "Polish wanderer" leaves me curious as to its intended meaning. This song serves as a bridge between two distinct eras, recalling elements of Bowie's work from 1967-68.
An Occasional Dream also echoes the late-sixties acoustic folk sound present on several tracks of the album. Similar to Letter To Hermione, it offers a tranquil and introspective acoustic experience. Bowie sings of a Swedish room adorned with hessian and wood, evoking a sense of peacefulness. Tony Visconti contributes a delightful flute solo, further enhancing the song's tranquility. Its gentle and melodic nature has always resonated with me.
The Wild-Eyed Boy From Freecloud tells a strange folk tale of an imprisoned young man with wild eyes, gradually wasting away in jail. This melodramatic and intense track possesses an operatic grandeur, featuring an array of instruments such as brass, cello, flute, and harp. While producer and musician Tony Visconti considers it one of his finest achievements, I have found it slightly excessive, although I admire the narrative and storytelling elements within.
Even more peculiar is God Knows I'm Good, a folky and acoustic song revolving around the story of a confused elderly woman who steals a tin of stewing steak from a grocery store. This type of song is unexpected from David Bowie, as he did not venture into "real-life" or "kitchen sink drama" themes very often. Consequently, it feels somewhat incongruous within both Bowie's post-1968 repertoire and the overall album.
Finally, we have the magnificently trippy Memory Of A Free Festival, featuring lines like "Peter talked with tall Venusians." This song takes listeners on a cosmic journey, recounting a festival that Bowie helped organise or perhaps fantasised about organising - though it apparently involved plenty of arguments about trivial matters. Idealised memories blend with sci-fi-inspired fantasy, creating an atmosphere that may have exceeded the actual festival's ambiance. The repeated chant of "the sun machine is coming down and we're gonna have a party" exudes a corny "hippy" vibe that I cannot help but adore. Perhaps Bowie, with a touch of irony and cynicism, was subtly dismissing the fading hippy counter culture, envisioning its replacement by new movements. While this song nostalgically reflects upon potentially illusory memories, it also serves as a glimpse into the future. As clichéd as it may sound, Bowie consistently appeared one step ahead.
One last postscript - I have always preferred the “Ziggy hair” cover shown at the start of this review that was used when it was re-released in 1973 (which was when I bought it), however - that was the cover I grew up with.
There is an extended "remix" of Memory Of A Free Festival on the 30th Anniversary edition that adds a strange echoey sound to Bowie's vocal on the introductory verses giving it an ethereal sound, and the other instrumentation is considerably "oomphed" and enhanced. The fade out chorus is far more powerful and the voices more distinct and vibrant. It is an enjoyable mix, but I probably prefer the sparser, more home-produced charm of the original, which sort of mirrored the same qualities that the festival had. There is also the "single mix" of the song, which considerably "rocks it up" with powerful, chunky riffs, with loads more guitar, solid drums, new keyboard sounds and a general level of punch not heard on the original. The song is divided in to two halves, Part 1 and Part 2, the latter being just the choral fade out. It is enhanced with some excellent electric guitar, though. Who is that on guitar? Yes, it's Mick Ronson, making his first appearance with Bowie. There is a fair case for these two rock versions being the best incarnations of the song.
Conversation Piece was a rejected song from the 1969 Space Oddity sessions. It is a pleasant, melodic, wistful number with Bowie's voice sounding very much like it did on some of the plaintive 1966-68 recordings. It contains some beguiling lyrics - "I live above a grocer's store owned by an Austrian". It is largely acoustically driven with a fetching rhythmic beat to it. The drums were apparently played by a session drummer whose identity has been long forgotten. It was not Space Oddity drummer John Cambridge, but a jazz musician whose identity remains unknown, which may help to account for the unusually rhythmic groove.
It underwent a remix in 2019 which has given it far more bass oomph and a general warmth of ambience that makes it a more attractive number. "My essays lying scattered on the floor..." sings Bowie. Was he recalling some past student days? The song was also re-recorded for the discarded Toy sessions in 2000 and is much slower in pace, with none of the breezy joie de vivre of the original and a considerably more sonorous Bowie vocal.
The Tony Visconti 2019 Remix
Like the latest Bob Ludwig remaster on The Rolling Stones’ Let It Bleed, this new Tony Visconti “remix’ of David Bowie’s 1969 album leaves one listening over and over, desperately trying to find some obvious differences from the previous release of the same album. The thing is, the new remasters/remixes are trying to put a new coat of paint on something that is already more than shiny enough. The previous Let It Bleed was more than acceptable and the 2009 one of Space Oddity is too (although the later 2015 revealed several sonic imperfections, surprisingly)
I am a big fan of Visconti, however, and I really loved his work on Low, “Heroes" and Lodger, and also on several T. Rex albums. Here his enhancements are not quite so clear. They are there, though. Like on Let It Bleed, it is the case that the bass is a bit more warm, fuller and “rubbery” - the riffs a little bit chunkier and the acoustic guitars sharper. There is just something of an overall more punch and “oomph”. Maybe. Actually, yes there is but it is not incredibly discernible, but to the familiar ear it will be apparent, I am sure. It is to me, with each listen.
Space Oddity has a few vocal echoes on the initial "lift off" bit and some new percussion sounds floating around (like a tin can) here and there (far above the world). Some spacey sound effects appear as well. The track does not "fade in" as the original one did and develops a big bassy thump on the chorus parts. Some more echoes come in one the "can you hear me Major Tom" part too. Oddly, though, the new remix neither fades in nor fades out, yet both this and the 20215 remaster last 5:20.
I feel that Visconti has possibly tried to make the album sound more of a closer relative to the comparatively heavy The Man Who Sold The World, which he produced, than it was before, particularly on the two lengthier, heavier, proggier tracks of Unwashed And Somewhat Slightly Dazed and the monumental Cygnet Committee. Listen to the power of the guitar/drums on the former and the lovely bass on the latter. Both songs now sound wonderfully massive. Cygnet Committee is just such a superb track anyway. The hiss behind the introductory bass has gone on the new remix as well.
The “Don’t Sit Down” interlude is not on the new remix, by the way. The bass on Letter To Hermione is rumblingly beautiful and the new mix is not quite so sonorously echoey.
The acoustic guitars on the winsome Janine and the underrated An Occasional Dream are crystal clear and Janine has a gorgeous bass now. Check out that orchestration on The Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud too.
The beguiling, appealing Conversation Piece has now been added to the album, between The Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud and God Knows I’m Good, making the album an even better one. Its 2019 remix, once again, has more bass warmth to it. Memory Of A Free Festival had an “alternative mix” that appeared on the 40th Anniversary release in 2009. This remixed version is not that one and does not differ as radically from the original.
This album is no longer a quirky “early” album, it is finally being recognised for the solid piece of varied, burgeoning creativity that it was. This contemporary tinkering with it has been positive as far as I am concerned. I have known this album since 1972 and, nearly fifty years later I find I am still discovering new charms hidden within it. This remix allows me to do that even more. I’m happy with that.
** Also of interest is the Conversation Piece box set of outtakes and remixes etc (click on the title).
