CD Odyssey Disc 1927: Iggy Pop

Welcome to the weekend and another edition of the CD Odyssey. Today we have some post-punk from a time when most people were still doing regular punk.

Disc 1927 is…The Idiot

Artist: Iggy Pop

Year of Release: 1977

What’s up with the Cover? Mr. Pop himself, decked out in what appears to be a ladies blazer stands on a dark…beach? Desert?

Iggy is holding his hands in a very deliberate and peculiar way. I’m going to assume that it is semaphore for “idiot” and then not look it up, because its funner that way.

Yeah, I said funner. You can use funner in a sentence where you are randomly discussing idiots and semaphore. It is – quite literally – an idiot word.

How I Came To Know It: Welcome to the first edition of the “Ross Records”. A few weeks back my good friend Ross was parting with his (very excellent) CD collection and gave me dibs on picking through before he went commercial. I got about 25 albums that day, including discovering some very cool bands I had not previously known.

I also got this Iggy Pop record. Anyway, huge thanks to Ross.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Iggy Pop record, so it can’t stack up. I also have a Stooges record (Iggy’s band) but I’m making the call to keep that separate.

Ratings: 2 stars

The vast majority of the Ross Records are awesome additions to my collection. Sadly, “The Idiot” starts our journey in a more average fashion.

Iggy Pop’s first solo record shows the freedom of an artist out on his own, willing to do new things, but it also shows the self-indulgence that can happen when you don’t have other band members say, “that’s an OK groove, but let’s leave it off the record until we’ve workshopped it a bit.”

First the good news – Iggy Pop’s natural charisma survives the transition to a solo career just fine. He has one of those “everything I say is important” cult leader kind of voices, akin to Glenn Danzig or Patty Smith. These are the rock voices of a generation, able to compel you to wave a flag, or raise a fist, or storm a Bastille simply through the force of their tone and the presence behind it.

This quality is evident throughout the record, and on the band’s opening track, “Sister Midnight” I was hopeful for the future. Sure the song didn’t really go anywhere after establishing its groove, but the groove was a good one, and by the end I was fully ready to call Sister Midnight, despite lyrics indicating this would be a poor decision.

Another solid tune is the dramatic “Tiny Girls” which has Iggy’s vocals climbing into a vibrato and a bit more melodic structure than you might usually expect from a founding father of punk. There’s a saxophone at the end of the song, which is always a dangerous arrangement decision in rock and roll, but here it works.

The challenge with “The Idiot” is that most of the time the songs don’t achieve this level of interest. They start with a fairly cool groove, and a feel for dark streets and darker thoughts that will have you wanting to hear more, but then they don’t develop into anything. Iggy is content to let the songs be mood pieces, with a lot of repeated lyrics and repeated song structures, but absent the dynamic energy of punk. It is punk pushed under water and held there until it stops kicking.

This is irritating, because there are multiple occasions where things start out with great promise. “Nightclubbing” aims – and to a degree, captures – the hollowed-out world of going out to the clubs. There is a great start here, but it just walks along in the same moment, content to add strange bits of production (piano jangle here, strangled guitar solo there) rather than fully dig in.

Does “Nightclubbing” capture that numbing experience of being out too late, too drunk, and walking too far to find the impossible - a club with the perfect mix of cool vibe and short lineup to get in? Yes, it does, but it isn’t something I want to listen to. In the end it just fades away, an undeveloped melody that doesn’t know where to head next.

“Dum Dum Boys” is similarly tiresome. Great start, and Iggy’s vocals almost sustain the song all on their own, but at over seven minutes long, I was tired of hearing about it long before Iggy was tired of telling me.

The album features an early version of “China Girl” six years before David Bowie would release it on “Let’s Dance”. Iggy Pop cowrote the song, but his version while novel at first, ultimately is a pale comparison to Bowie’s.

David Bowie also produced “The Idiot” and it is fair to say that – as is not uncommon in my complex relationship with Bowie – I didn’t like the choices. The record sounds dull and flat, capturing the lo-fi sensibilities of punk but minus the visceral energy of it. While the production fits the vibe of the record, this is a sound you don’t want to be doubling down on.

This record has its moments, but it mostly had me wanting to go back in time and listen to the Stooges blast out “Raw Power” or dance to the synthy detachment of early eighties Bowie. The no man’s land between the two experiences did not appeal.

Best tracks: Sister Midnight, Tiny Girls

CD Odyssey Disc 1470: David Bowie

This next artist is a bit like Led Zeppelin, in that I know I should like them better than I do, but just don't.

Disc 1470 is…. Let’s Dance

Artist: David Bowie

Year of Release: 1983

What’s up with the Cover?  A shirtless David Bowie prepares to…box with someone? Maybe he’s just issued a challenge like, “let’s dance, motherfucker!” Spilling down beside the Thin White Pugilist and his name, the album title plays out in a series of dance steps, should everyone decide to shed their anger and hit the dance floor instead of each other.

How I Came To Know It: This album was everywhere when I was a kid, and the songs blared out at many a high school dance. The reason it is in my CD collection is because Sheila loves this record and bought it.

How It Stacks Up: We have four David Bowie albums, and this one is my least favourite so…#4.

Ratings: 3 stars

Outside of “Ziggy Stardust” I have never got David Bowie in the same way other people do. My wife, many of my closest friends and critics aplenty all rave about this guy, but with the exception of a couple early records, I have never fallen for his modern love. This record is a classic example, where I can objectively see why people think it is great, while still being unable to wrestle my ears into agreement.

Bowie goes through a lot of style changes, and here we find him in his Thin White Duke eighties incarnation. “Let’s Dance” was a huge record. It went multi-platinum, was #1 all over the world and (as noted above) served as the soundtrack to many a high school dance in the mid-eighties.

When I first loaded it up on the car stereo and it launched into “Modern Love” I became nervous. Would this record be so familiar, that I wouldn’t be able to see it with fresh eyes? Or perhaps a deep cut or two that I had overlooked through the years would jump out at me for the first time? As it played out, it was the hits that provided the best experience, so let’s begin there.

“Modern Love” is a great opening, with that guitar riff that jumps about somewhere between funk and New Wave, letting you know that Bowie is once again going for a “sound”. Bowie is like Madonna in that he always seems to be at just the right place on the popularity curve of a style or sound to maximize the public’s interest.

Here we get treated to the mid-eighties in all its grotesque and artificial glory. A hollow drum, tinkling piano and the ubiquitous saxophone solo all careen of each other like bumper cars at an amusement park. Against all odds, “Modern Love” makes this work. It is even more amazing when you analyze the lyrics and are left just wondering what the hell it is all about except that it is “modern!” and it gets him to the church on time. Whatever, it is a good song.

The other hit that appealed to me is “China Girl” which works in some Far East sounds into a Western pop song in a beautiful way. “China Girl” showcases the deep and mysterious tone that makes David Bowie’s voice so cool and sexy. This is the record’s best song.

As for the title track, it starts out pretty solid, with a series of interlocking and instantly recognizable pop hooks that makes it born to play in the background of movies and commercials for decades to come. However, Bowie drags this thing out for over seven and a half interminable minutes. As minute after minute ticked by I went from a grudging respect to seriously hating this song. It is just a bunch of weird percussion, soulless drum. It has one great line “under the moonlight, the serious moonlight” which is awesome, but not so much that I forgive that long trail of thumps, bumps and solos on the saxophone and (I think) the bongos which dominate the latter half of this tune.

Bowie is not alone in thinking we want to hear a song drone on for this long. Dire Straits (“Brothers in Arms”) and Blue Rodeo (“Five Days in May”) are also worthy entries in the “this song should’ve ended five minutes ago” sweepstakes. However, those songs are so awesome I forgive them. I do not forgive “Let’s Dance”.

The deep cuts, which were unfamiliar to me, were a mixed bag. “Without You” is solid, and Bowie tones down the weird here enough that a pretty pop song is allowed to emerge. “Without You” has a fluid feel that proves eighties pop can be serious and romantic when it wants to be. “Cat People (Putting Out Fire)” is OK, although that guitar solo is not nearly as rock ‘n’ roll as it thinks it is.

“Ricochet” and “Criminal World” are both hard to suffer through, with so much going on that (to borrow a phrase from “Cat People”) they sound like they’re trying to put out a fire with gasoline. The album ends with “Shake It” which has the vacuous energy of a song from a high school musical. I found it embarrassing to play, as I sat at a red light on the drive home from work yesterday. I refused to turn it down, however, firmly believing the CD Odyssey should never show mercy. A full listen, monkey.

Best tracks: Modern Love, China Girl, Without You

CD Odyssey Disc 813: David Bowie

I’m just back from watching “Star Wars: The Force Awakens.” If you loved the magic of the first three movies, but that magic was destroyed by the awful prequels, then “The Force Awakens” will restore your faith in the Star Wars universe. It was good fun.

Disc 813 is….Young Americans

Artist: David Bowie

Year of Release: 1975

What’s up with the Cover? David relaxes with a cigarette and tries his best to strike a casual pose. David doesn’t really do casual, but the effect of him trying is strangely beautiful. He’s like an alien that fell in love with humanity and so decided to become one.

How I Came To Know It: I recently saw a documentary about David Bowie called “David Bowie: Five Years” that highlighted five critical years in his career. “Young Americans” was one of the albums featured, and what I saw intrigued me so I bought it.

How It Stacks Up:  We have four David Bowie albums, most of which were bought by Sheila. “Young Americans” was the only one I purchased, but it is not my favourite. I’ll put it third.

Ratings: 3 stars

Like Alice Cooper, David Bowie is one of those artists who loves to try on new musical styles to see how they fit, and “Young Americans” represents his obsession with soul music.

Also like Alice Cooper, Bowie brings his own unique weirdness to whatever project he decides to tackle, but for the most part the fascination with “Young Americans” is how straight Bowie plays it. Say what you will about the prospects for a psychedelic seventies rocker attempting soul music, Bowie not only tries it on for size, he wears it well.

In fact, most of my criticisms of “Young Americans” relates to what I would say about a lot of soul music; that it just grooves along without going anywhere. That’s because soul music isn’t about telling a story as much as it is about relaxing into the pocket of a tune and riding it for a while.

The album has some classic baby-makin’ songs like “Win” and “Right” (as in “doing it right”) although a closer examination of the lyrics for “Right” showed it to be a song as much about loss as ecstasy.

These songs work well enough, but I like “Young Americans” best when Bowie freaks up his soul as he does on the title track and “Fame.” For all its groovy backup singers going “woo-ooo-ooo” and “alllll…right!” and its horn flourishes, the song “Young Americans” has the beginnings of the eighties sound Bowie would try on “Let’s Dance” eight years later. The song even features a synthesizer voice and a brief homage to the Beatles with a line and riff (“I heard the news today…”) lifted straight out of “A Day in the Life.”

It almost goes too far, but Bowie usually knows how to catch his balance even after taking a half step too far over the line. Later, Bowie completes his Beatles love affair, with a strong cover of “Across the Universe.”

“Fame” is the other standout song on the album, where Bowie again takes a classic soul construction and then freaks it up with crazy distorted vocals. The combination of the groove being so perfectly in the pocket and the vocals falling off the edge of that pocket captures the sexy allure of fame, but also the disconnect and alienation it creates. It is a subject that Bowie not only fully understands, but an abyss he consistently stared into for his inspiration.

For all this musical brilliance, I was a little disappointed that the two songs I liked most on “Young Americans” were the two I could get on any Bowie compilation. The other songs on the album are good, but they didn’t inspire me to dig any deeper in his catalogue. If anything, Bowie has captured the ‘soul’ of soul too well. I only want to hear him when he’s deliberately separating himself from it.

For a guy who took on the persona of alien Ziggy Stardust for a few years, Bowie plays it fairly safe on “Young Americans.” His musical genius shines through, and there is plenty to recommend this album, but despite that I can’t grade it higher than three stars.

Best tracks:  Young Americans, Fame

CD Odyssey Disc 551: David Bowie

Ladies and gentlemen, you are reading the blog of a World Record Holder.

This weekend I went on my annual guy’s trip to Seattle to see the 49ers battle the Seahawks on Sunday Night Football.  The crowd at the game registered as the loudest stadium ever at 136.6 decibels, and there was an official from the Guinness Book of World Records to record the event.

Three days later, I’m still a little hoarse due to all the yelling to help get the record, but it was worth it, since the 49er players couldn’t hear themselves think and the Seahawks beat them convincingly 29-3.

Also, the Dolphins won and we’re now 2-0 for the season.  Yeehaw!  OK, enough football – on to music.

Disc 551 is…. Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars

Artist: David Bowie

Year of Release: 1972

What’s up with the Cover?  Ziggy Stardust steps out of his flat and into the deepening gloom of the city streets, armed only with his guitar, ready to do deliver his dread message to the doomed people of the earth, or maybe just soak in their adoration.

How I Came To Know It:  When I was about thirteen or fourteen my Aunt Karen bought me this album on vinyl.  I was horrified.  Not only was it not in my preferred format at the time (cassette), it was by David Bowie.  Having no interest in anything but heavy metal, I decided to give it to a punk girl named Nancy who rode my bus.  She was thrilled and decided she had to pay me for it, continually slipping money into my locker.  Each time I’d find a clever way to return the money claiming (honestly) the record had no value to me. 

In point of fact, I never even listened to it, nor did I ever do the logical thing and ask Nancy out (despite her being a year older and six inches taller).  Truth be told, with her spiked hair and multiple ear piercings Nancy intimidated me, despite my riding the bus with her every day and knowing that she was both sweet and personable.

So chalk two mistakes up to youthful indiscretion.  Years later, Sheila introduced me to the album (and this time I listened) and I loved it.  This time I fully embraced both Bowie and the girl who loved him, and it has all worked out for the best.

How It Stacks Up:  We have three albums by David Bowie (all Sheila’s).  This one is far and away his best, so number one.

Rating:  5 stars

Delayed satisfaction is satisfaction all the same, and “Ziggy Stardust” satisfies me like few records can.  If I foolishly ignored it for a few decades, then I am happy to be making up for lost time now.

The record captures David Bowie at his weirdest, which is saying something.  Bowie is a man who sometimes seemed more intent on the weirdness than the music; wanting to be famous more than he wanted a reason to be famous.  So when he decided to do a concept album about an alien who comes down to earth to become a rock star it had all the potential of a massive, overwrought disaster.

Instead, the musical excellence of “Ziggy Stardust” matches the grandiosity of its themes note for note. If there is a self-absorption to the music, it is only because there would be no other way to do the concept justice.

The music is classic early seventies rock, a mix of rock guitar licks, otherworldly organ and horn touches and the tattered remnants of sixties hippy music that has been twisted, folded, and folded again until it will hold an edge.

The whole record reminded me a bit of the Rocky Horror Picture Show with its combination of camp and rock and roll majesty, except perfectly delivered and musically far more rewarding.

The “Ziggy Stardust” story had me thinking a lot of Robert A. Heinlein’ “Stranger in a Strange Land” which has a similar theme about an alien coming to earth and becoming a messiah to the planet.  Maybe it is because Sheila introduced me to the book as well, which I also loved.  Certainly great art will often make you think of other great art.

I don’t love Bowie’s voice, which is a bit thin in places, but he sings these songs with great phrasing, and the right measures of emotion, disconnect and sexual ambiguity that the material calls for.  He may not be Freddie Mercury in terms of range, but he knows how to work what’s he got, and it is perfectly suited to the material.

Every song is great on this album, and it’s hard to single any out for specific mention.  Obviously the title track has one of the most iconic guitar riffs in rock music, so I’d be remiss not to comment on how many times it made me look foolish for air-guitaring along with it at a street light walking to work this week.  I regret nothing, however; not playing that riff on air guitar would be an affront to whichever muse filled Bowie’s head with it.

Beyond that, I’ll just say every song is great, and appears in an order where you can’t imagine it any other way.  Similarly, I won’t quote any lyrics.  In isolation they are gloriously over the top, but even so they’d lose something for being pulled from their place in the full “Ziggy Stardust” experience.

Instead, I encourage you to listen to this album from front to back as I’ve just done (twice) and grok it in its fullness the way it deserves.

Best tracks:  all tracks