Breaking ground, Breaking Glass: ‘Sound and Vision’ by David Bowie, 1977

What profile does David Bowie have today in the world of music?  Effectively zero*.  It would be entirely possible for someone in their 20s to have missed out on Bowie altogether, not least because his back catalogue receives remarkably little airplay.  Yet, Bowie was a huge figure in the world of music from the late 60s to the early 80s and is one of the most influential artists in the history of contemporary music.

By the late 70s, new album releases by Bowie were amongst the mostly hotly anticipated in the music world.  The 1977 album ‘Low’ was no exception.  The expectation was of yet another change in direction from an artist with a reputation as a musical chameleon who adopted different personas and musical styles with each album release.  He had been a ‘singer songwriter’ with ‘Hunky Dory’, a ‘rock god’ in ‘Aladdin Sane’ (‘A lad insane’, get it?), a ‘blue-eyed soul boy’ in ‘Young Americans’ – and had convinced in all three roles.  Although it contained some great tracks, his previous album, ‘Station to Station’ had marked time somewhat, with no clearly defined musical style.  What would his next incarnation be?

We knew Bowie had been locked in a studio in Berlin with fellow musical genius Brian Eno, and we knew this would definitely mean a change in direction, probably less rock-y and more experimental – Eno had a reputation for being somewhat avant garde and an innovator in ‘electronic’ music – but nothing had prepared us for what we heard in Low.

I can clearly remember listening in my bedroom to my little radio cassette player as Bowie’s new album debuted on Capital Radio’s ‘progressive rock’ show ‘Your Mother Wouldn’t Like It’.  From the very first bar of the opening track, ‘Speed of Life’, and continuing through ‘Breaking Glass’ and ‘Sound and Vision’ to the Side 1 closer, ‘A New Career in a New Town’, this was a unlike anything I had heard before: songs in which the basic rhythm was punched out by a coarse, crashing drum beat, right up front in the mix.  As with so many musical landmarks, it is difficult to appreciate at this distance how radical this was at the time.  With ‘Low’, Bowie pioneered a sound that is now so commonplace you would never imagine that it hadn’t always been around.  At the time, however, it was so radical and so challenging that it was hugely controversial.  Was this an experiment too far; had Eno corrupted Bowie’s musical sensibility; had Bowie simply lost his way?

Of course, it was none of the above.  Bowie had defined the future sound of music, and dance music in particular; we just didn’t realise it yet.  ‘Low’ took a while to get into but, once you did, you appreciated its originality and bravery – as well as some damned fine songs.

Or at least you did for Side 1.  ‘Low’ was an album of two sides, metaphorically as well as literally.  Bowie’s laying down of 8 ‘instrumental’ tracks on a 14 track album was regarded as perhaps even more transgressive than his crashing beats.  Bowie, with Eno, was pioneering electronic music purely instrumentally as well as within conventional song formats.  Again, it’s something we don’t even think about now, but it added to the controversy surrounding the album. This was Bowie’s ‘Dylan Goes Electric’ moment, the album’s name being a gift to sceptical journalists as they suggested that he had completely lost his mojo and been musically corrupted by Eno, the evil Rasputin figure in this story.  How foolish those journalists look now – and perhaps Bowie too, who later referred in the song ‘Ashes to Ashes’, a retrospective look at his career, to “hitting an all time Low”.  The album is perhaps uneven and struggles to reconcile its divergent styles, but for the new sound it ushered in and for a number of outstanding tracks, I think it must be regarded as a classic.

You can hear the influence of Berlin in the music.  In 1977, this was still a divided city, defined by Der Maeur, The Wall, which separated Communist East from Democratic West and would do so for another decade.  Stranded as an ‘island’ outpost deep in East Germany, West Berlin developed a very particular mentality.  Encircled by threat, West Berlin’s uniquely claustrophobic, isolated and marginal situation incubated a defiant siege mentality and helped make the city a hotbed of creativity.  Feeling burnt out after Station to Station and looking to rebuild after years of drug abuse, Bowie saw Berlin as the place to reconnect with himself and rekindle his art.  Whether or not he and Eno really were locked up in a bunker-style studio in the shadow of The Wall, it’s the image we have of them, labouring through the night for months before they could bring this ground-breaking album out blinking into the light.  There’s an edginess to the songs and a tension in the instrumentals that I think reflects the Berlin state of mind.  Bowie’s second Berlin album was Low’s follow up, Heroes.  It’s another masterpiece, which I will cover in another post.

Bowie innovated in ways other than music.  He was one of the first artists to realise the potential of the Internet, setting up his own ISP, BowieNet.  He also sold shares in himself so that people could invest in his future earning potential.  Then there was his acting career.  Bowie was never an entirely comfortable screen presence, but his other-worldly demeanour suited him to roles in ‘Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence’ and, most notably, as the alien in Nic Roeg’s ‘The Man Who Fell to Earth’ (from which comes Low’s sleeve image).  His most significant impact, however, is seen in the way musicians change their image with each album and present varying personas in their stage shows.  Such change is now the norm but, without Bowie, the likes of Madonna and Lady Gaga would be rather more two-dimensional.

Finally, if it hadn’t been for Bowie making androgyny cool, I would have worn a lot less make-up in the 80s and never have fraternised with hair dye.  I would argue that Bowie’s sexual ambiguity helped establish the foundations of a more accepting public attitude towards homosexuality. His career might be over*, but Bowie’s influence has been immense and, in many small and unrecognised ways – although no longer in my hair colour –  we see and hear his legacy every day.

* Note, of course, that this post was written before the surprise release of Bowie’s very fine album ‘The Next Day’, in March 2013, which showed us very clearly that Bowie’s career was anything but ‘over’.