A confession: I’ve never been a David Bowie fan. That’s not, however, due to dislike, but because I’ve never really given his full oeuvre the time it deserves. In the wake of his death this week, that’s my own personal tragedy (and something that will surely be rectified). Yet even a non-fan can appreciate the impact Bowie had on the industry. Here was a glam-rocker with a punk disregard for boundaries, whose androgynous sexuality seemed as fiery as his flaming hair, whose penchant for artistry, concepts and alter-egos have become the foundation for so many other artists of recent memory.
It’s also not hard to see the importance and poignancy of ‘Blackstar’,
Bowie’s final album released on his 69th birthday just days before
his untimely death. It’s a haunting image to imagine the late artist writing this
album knowing that death was marching ever nearer, but ‘Blackstar’ is without
question a knowing farewell, fuelled by deathly and celestial imagery.
“I know something is very wrong” begins closing track I Can’t Give Everything Away, a
beautiful track that seems to sum up the torment of an artist with so much more
to give but no time to do it, instilled in the song’s very title. Opener Blackstar, by contrast, takes a darker
view seemingly inspired by Islamic State: “on the day of execution, only women
kneel and smile”. Yet even this is cause for reflection, as Bowie repeats “I’m
a blackstar…not a popstar” like a mantra. More so, the track contemplates what
we leave behind, as he sings “something happened on the day he died…somebody
else took his place”, perhaps even a passing of the torch to the next
generation of artists.
Bowie’s thoughts reach beyond the grave, too. Lazarus is the most potent example of
this, it’s opening lines: “Look up here, I’m in heaven…Everybody knows me now”.
It’s almost enlightening that Bowie predicted the future so palpably across the
album’s seven tracks, though as he finishes on Lazarus, “I’ll be free”. We know that now. Lyrically, ‘Blackstar’
may be as poetically obtuse as ever, but its sentiment is anything but
ambiguous, making these final lyrics perhaps the most explicit he ever sang. The video for Lazarus, too, must be mentioned here for its visceral visuals.
And musically, ‘Blackstar’ only fulfills expectations in
that it defies them with an album that’s wonderfully creative and unafraid of
innovation. The title track, for instance, is inspired by the unlikely figure
of Kendrick Lamar through its sense of experimentation, its modern beats and
squelchy synth bass contrasting with Bowie’s chant-like vocal. There’s jazz
there too in the sense of extended improvisation, with a jazz quartet involved
in the album’s recording. From there, the album moves through the jazz-tinged
rock of ‘Tis a Pity She Was a Whore;
the mournful saxophone of Lazarus; the
urgent guitar riffs of Sue (Or In A
Season Of Crime); the downbeat menace of Girl Love Me and its eerie calls of “where the fuck did Monday go?”; and the
more traditional ballad Dollar Days. I Can’t Give Everything Away, eventually
ends the album on a positive note with its warm strings, soprano saxophone
calls and Bowie’s delicate, quivering vocal that – in retrospect especially – cuts through
to the soul.
Yet whilst Bowie may have sought to distance this album from
his past material, it still keenly represents and celebrates his spirit.
Listening now, it’s as if Bowie sings from the grave – as profound and powerful
in death as he was in life.
4/5
Listen: Blackstar is
available now.
Gizzle’s Choice:
* Blackstar
* Lazarus
* I Can’t Give Everything Away
