Friday On My Mind #8

Being a semi-regular Friday feature wherein we take a look at three songs from the canon of Mr. David Robert Jones of Brixton, London SW, latterly of Bromley, Kent and currently of New York, New York.

Art Decade - Low
This is inventive and engaging; not necessarily everyone's cup of tea but it's short, to the point and full of economical little musical phrases that kind of creep up on you. The Low album, for those of you who just came in, is divided into two very thematically distinct sides - the first mainly vocal, the second mainly instrumental. Side one begins and ends with instrumental tracks too, but these are full band tracks. The four pieces on side two, of which this is the second, consist of two long, rambling tracks that make use of wordless, multitracked vocals, and two short purely instrumental pieces in the middle. The sounds are pretty much all made by Bowie and his chosen aide-de-camp, Brian Eno, who'd been Roxy Music's musical secret weapon before striking out all on his ownio.

Art Decade, as far as I can tell, is mostly Bowie's own work, layering bits of synth, sax, random effects and (probably) mellotron over mechanical beats from a rhythm box (or maybe even a couple of rhythm boxes). There's a romantic-sounding, complex melody that resolves itself a couple of times, but I defy anyone to try and whistle it...

I didn't hear Kraftwerk's Ralf und Florian album until a few years later, but this sounds like it could have come from there - it has a similar sense of space, and even some of the loose, improvisatory feel. Don't forget, before Kraftwerk hit it big as electro-humanoids their music was a lot more space-rock, Kosmischemusik influenced, and to this day I still maintain that their music swings mightily. Maybe this is what "Krautrock" would have sounded like if it had been invented by Englishmen...

Anyway, this isn't just pretentious wafty ambient music, it's a beguiling listen for them what has ears, and surprisingly rich and full of ideas after you listen a few more times.

Bring Me The Disco King - Reality
Heathen had managed to reassure all of us Bowie fans that the man was still doing his job in fine fashion; Reality, which is his last original album to date, only suffers in comparison because by then we know the man was still plugging away. For the most part, this album has a more pared-back sound, but the writing is, thankfully, strong and our hero is in as good shape as he's ever been. Bring Me The Disco King is rueful and contemplative, based around a Mike Garson piano comp that could have come from Steely Dan circa Pretzel Logic. Garson's accompaniment really takes off as the song develops, and weaves around a bravura vocal performance from Ol' Traffic-Light Eyes himself, his voice sounding notably more mature than, say, the dashing young blade of the Ziggy era.

Not too long ago I saw the DVD of Bowie at the Point in Dublin from 2003, and in the middle of a set pretty well balanced between old and new, this absolutely brought the house down. Our singer muses here, not only on fame and all that comes with it, but on life and memories and regrets, all the while looking onwards to... what? There's a very palpable sense of mortality in this song, and Bowie puts heart and soul into it; Bring Me The Disco King is easily up there with his best stuff. Fair dues.

Free Your Heart - Hunky Dory
Probably not the first song to escape the lips of Bowie fans asked to name their favourites... I mean, this is a cover of a Tiny Tim song, yes? So I thought, but a bit of digging I discovered that Free Your Heart was co-written by Paul Williams and Biff Rose... I'd almost forgotten about Rose, who used to do light, humourous songs in the 60s on various comedy shows. So this tune has Williams' melodic invention as well as Rose's gentle optimism, and it's quite nice if not particularly classic. Bowie takes just the right approach, gently taking the mickey and singing with tongue firmly in cheek, though there's also an easy, unhurried sense to the singing that's kind of appealing. Hunky Dory is an album of many moods, and I don't know who else would segue this into something like Andy Warhol with odd synth effects and studio chatter. I still can't stop thinking of Tiny Tim though, and wondering why there are no ukuleles on this version...