I have a friend that I grew up with that now lives in New York. I touch base with her on Facebook every now and then but haven't seen her face to face in at least twenty years. It's a bummer because we went through a lot together back in the day, were roommates (with about eight others) around 1980. Back then she had a thing for David Bowie and I just ran into some Bowie oddballs and it made me think of her. She, Margaret, inventor of the Bowie Fast.
What is the Bowie Fast, you ask? Something that, at one time seemed silly, worthy of a teasing. Later it made total sense. I think it was somewhere around 1978-79, someone was putting on a record and they were asked not to play Bowie. It seemed Margaret liked Bowie so much that she didn't want to risk getting sick of him. She was on a Bowie Fast. Now I know what you're thinking, that Bowie's catalog is so vast that it would be nearly impossible, particularly for a Bowie fan, to even hear all that he's recorded enough times to go to that length. Not the ease in 1978. Bowie only had about a dozen albums out. There was no internet, no downloads or search engines, no deluxe editions. Outtakes, then only on bootleg LPs or via tape swapping, were hard to come by if they existed at all, There was roughly twelve hours (or less) of Bowie recordings readily available. The Bowie Fast makes total sense.
Here's three covers and a link to a collection of more outtakes, demos and the like. Margaret, hope you like :)
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Most of you know David Bowie once had an LP that was all covers, Pin Ups. It was covers of songs that were hits in the UK between 1964 and 1967. He did a shitload of other covers throughout his career and they're all over the map. I chose the ones below because they illustrate that tendency. You've got a Velvet Underground cover, a John Lennon cover, a Nat King Cole cover (w/Massive Attack) and, drum roll, an extended mix of a Legendary Stardust Cowboy cover. That last one is the one that slays me. If you're not familiar with the Legendary Stardust Cowboy, I encourage you to listen to "Paralyzed" first, then watch the video of Bowie telling Jools Holland how he ended up doing a Legendary Stardust Cowboy cover in the first place. And yes, I'll use any excuse to post the Legendary Stardust Cowboy.
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The other night I grabbed a totally random album out of the rack without looking and slapped it on. Iggy Pop's The Idiot, his first post-Stooges LP. The last Stooges album (credited to Iggy and the Stooges), Raw Power was a departure from the first two. Rocking, yes, but the first two LPs were just fucking downright feral. Even that departure was mild in comparison to the change between Raw Power, released in 1973, and the industrial dirge of The Idiot released four years later. The latter was produced by David Bowie, and he also played on it, not just snippets. He had so much to do with the overall sound and feel of of it that it might as well be seen as a equal billing collaboration between the two. Bowie was actually formulating the sound that would later be heard on his so-called Berlin trilogy (the LPs Low, Heroes and Lodger). Listening to The Idiot now, it seems way more ahead of its time, something I had not recognized when it came out. Then again, the disappointment I felt when I first heard it was largely because I was hoping for a more Stooges-like album. Hey, it was 1977, punk rock and all of that. Then, this?
I managed to find the five tracks on side one and I do recommend listening to the whole thing, so there's a link to a streaming side two. Also, what seems to be an exhaustive song-by-song article on the LP, with links to related videos. I've not read it or tried any of the YouTube links, but it's there anyway.
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Whoa. I just ran into what was my first exposure to moving images of David Bowie. I was sixteen and all I knew of Bowie musically was Ziggy Stardust. YouTube and DVDs were still decades away. As far as visuals, all I had to go on was album cover photos and magazines. Those were the days when concerts were about the only way that you would experience a live performance, unless the artist was big enough to gain a slot on one of the late night concert shows, the big two being Don Kirshner's Rock Concert and The Midnight Special (the latter hosted by Wolfman Jack). We knew Bowie was going to be on the Midnight Special so the usual late night teen high-jinks were clipped early in order to be home in time to see it.
I remember being in my parents living room with my brother as we watched the freak show unfold. Despite having seen photos of Bowie and hearing some of his music, I wasn't prepared for an eyebrow-less androgynous skinny as a rail dude with more costumes than Cher. It was engaging. Radical. I realized what all the fuss was about. This guy was different. He made Jagger look like a jock. When he did his singer/guitar flirting with Mick Ronson, I'd no clue that it was to sell records. I had no idea that any of the over-the-top-ness of it was designed to sell records. All I could think of is that we had here one bona fide freak show.
Seeing it again after all these years was an eye opener. The tightness of the band is pretty amazing considering that it was shot live. The set includes a few covers from the LP that was released a couple weeks earlier, Pinups. It was an LP consisting of all covers aimed at the U.S. market where the originals weren't well known. That LP turned me on to songs I'd never heard the originals of, and in some cases, never heard of the band. Hard to believe I'd yet to hear Barret-era Pink Floyd, the Pretty Things, Them and the Yardbirds. Thinking back, the Who and the Kinks, might have been the only bands that I was even familiar with. Here's a few from the Pinups LP.
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I've got no idea how this slipped past me. Wait, I do. I'm not enough of a Bowie fiend, or even Velvet Underground fiend, to know about every burp and fart they ever recorded. So the fact that an early cover of the Velvet Underground's "I'm Waiting For the Man" by a band called Riot Act, with Bowie on vocals, slipped past me shouldn't surprise me. What did surprise me is that the Riot Squad was covering it practically before it was released. In late 1966, Bowie's manager at the time returned from a trip to New York with an pre-release acetate of the first Velvet's album, given to him by Andy Warhol. The Riot Act started performing "I'm Waiting For the Man" right away. Bowie was only in the band for a couple months, so the recording was done soon thereafter. It didn't see release until 2013.
After hearing it, I started thinking about the whole Lou Reed/Bowie thing. That top photo above appeared in a magazine around 1972, and led to speculation that they were more than just friends. I don't remember being all that surprised by it, rather I found it funny because another photo in the sequence revealed that the third wheel obscured by their smooch is Mick Jagger. After all of the ostracizing dynamics of the Stones, it was nice to see him the odd man out.
Here's a smattering of versions of two Velvet Underground songs, "I'm Waiting For the Man" and "White Light, White Heat", another song that Bowie and Reed shared more than once. The real oddball down there is unrelated to Bowie or Reed (other than Reed's authorship). It's a cover of "White Light, White Heat" by bluegrass icon Ralph Stanley. The shit you find...
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Today is Mothers Day in the U.S., a day we thank our Moms for all of their sacrifices and love and what not, with varying degrees of heartfelt mushiness. My Mom passed away several years ago, and I miss being able to pick up the phone, call her, and then hang up knowing that everything is all right. No matter how old I was, when I was sick, I'd call her to get advice. It wasn't always the correct advice, but coming from her, it always made me feel better. Just a year or so before she passed away, she did what she had never done before. She turned me on to a song. It was "Nature Boy" by Nat King Cole. The song was written by eden ahbez, whose name I won't capitalize because he didn't. ahbez was a hippie before there was such a thing. Long hair, beard, vegetarian diet, nature loving, the works. He walked across the country something like eight times, and hardly ever had a fixed address. And this was in the forties.
ahbez, bottom center, and friends. Band rider: watermelon
In 1947 ahbez went to Hollywood to pitch the song to Nat King Cole, handing the words and music through a stage door to be passed on to him. His sister-in-law in a 1977 L.A. Times article said he picked Cole because he liked the gentleness of his voice. It's an interesting story, about the song and ahbez, and there's a a couple links below for those inclined. The reason why I picked this song today is because it makes me think of my Mom every time I hear it. I wrote about the first time I saw her listen to it in an earlier post, and one of the things that struck me is how she seemed taken to another place when she was listening to it. With this faraway look, she sang along to it. Fast forward to about a year ago. I was in the alley, taking something out of the garage when a old codger is walking by. It was cloudy and a little chilly out. I muttered something like "Nice day, huh?" and he answered "I'm all bundled up, and look at you, a barefoot nature boy." Then I asked if he knew the song, and he paused, and with that same faraway look that my Mom had had, started singing the song, right there in the middle of the alley.
"This is how we play it back in the hut." abhez and Sinatra, 1948
The song really does have that effect. It's not of this world any more today than it was when it was written, in 1947. There's something about it, and once you hear it, you might find yourself taken enough to pause, particularly if you hear it by chance. Here's a few versions. Some have been posted before, my favorite being Etta Jones's. Bowie did a pretty dynamic version that I had not heard until recently, and there's a link below to a version by the Real Group. I don't know who they are, and I'm not usually down with accapella anything, but they do an extraordinary version.
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This morning I was in my car flipping the dial when I heard a snippet of an interview with David Bowie. My first thought was "ahhh shit". I had a sinking feeling that something bad had happened. Within minutes, my suspicions were confirmed. David Bowie was dead.
I'm not going to bullshit. I've made cracks about Bowie before, and I'd be lying if I said that I was fan enough to not spot a wart or two over the years. But I have nothing but respect for the man, as a ground breaker, visionary and all of the other Twitter ready short descriptions. Yesterday was, for many people of my generation, the day the music died. He was our Elvis, our Beatles. He was always there, surprising us time and time again with a new turn, a new sound, a new persona, without paying attention to what was selling or what might sell. He was an original, several times over. And, by and large, he produced quality product. He was there for others as well. When Mott the Hoople needed a boost, Bowie was there. Lou Reed, again. Iggy Pop? He might not be here at all if not for Bowie.
Back in the seventies, he earned his rock 'n roll merit badge, pissing off the parents of all the children who ate up his gender bending persona from Ziggy Stardust through Diamond Dogs. Then he surprised his fans when the David Live LP came out, his dapper looks and the first steps outside of a glam persona. Young Americans? How many shag heads were listening to anything remotely like Philly soul, no matter how plastic the interpretation was? Then there was the Berlin period albums, the synth and drone inflected Station to Station,Low, and Heroes, the latter being the last Bowie album I ever bought. Not because everything after that sucked. I just couldn't keep up. No casual fan could.
What, like four decades?
You can bet that in the next few days and weeks there's gonna be plenty of Bowie related stuff posted everywhere, so here's just a few odds and ends I've run across. In a weird twist, today being my Mom's birthday, I'd been planning on posting "Nature Boy" a song that was a favorite of hers. That went out the window when I heard the news. But in searching for Bowie stuff, I ran across a version he did in 2001 that I had no idea existed. Man, he was pretty much always firing on all cylinders. I ask you, who else has covered the Legendary Stardust Cowboy? Did you know that he was in a movie having a knife fight with Carl Perkins? (After Perkins pulls a knife out of his own chest!) Do check out that last link down there and marvel at how healthy he looked just three days ago.
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I'm not going to lie to you. A photo of guitar face just about made my night. Almost more than Gloria Jones, but we'll get to her in a minute. First, I have to be upfront. I have a fascination with guitar face. It cracks me up, but that's really just part of it. It intrigues me. I know some guitarists try to avoid it, and a lot seem to think it better displays their emotions when playing their searing lead. Some may not be able to help themselves. And then there are those who effortlessly display little or no emotion, no matter what they play. Those are the ones who are usually musicians first, showmen second (if at all). But I can't lie. I love seeing asshats play searing leads. It's like seeing a knockout punch, but nobody gets hurt. A sort of Disaster Light. Bordering on rubbernecking, I cannot look away.
Now to Gloria Jones. I ran into a post that mentioned her and had to revisit "Tainted Love", the song famously covered by Soft Cell. If you haven't heard it, you need to. If you have heard it and Soft Cell's cover, you might not have heard her re-recording of it from 1976. It's not nearly as Northern Soul-ish, but kicks ass nonetheless, due in no small part to her pronounced wail. You'll never guess what lead me to her tonight. That's right, the guitar facer. It can now be revealed, the owner of tonight's breathtaking guitar face is none other than David Bowie. The original image (below) has achieved the impossible, instantly climbing to the top of my favorite guitar faces of all time list, for the pure guffaw it induces.
The Bowie and Marc Bolan photo comes from a post at There Is a Site That Never Goes Out. It's with eleven mp3s of the two of them working on three songs, from 1977. It also has Gloria Jones on piano and backing vocals, so that was where the sidetracking began. But, oh man, that guitar face.
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Man, oh man, any time I get discombobulated about what a clueless fucked up world it is that we live in, I know who to turn to. The Legendary Stardust Cowboy. When I listen to his records, there are moments that convince me to stop trying to make sense out of anything. For fleeting moments, everything becomes irrelevant. It's his total abandon of anything "normal". The most recent comparison to the Ledge's undefinable thing came a few weeks ago, I saw a kid that was about three or four at the beach, plowing the sand with his face, literally, as in crawling with his face in it, leaving a trail behind him. As I watched from a good distance away, I could not stop laughing. That's about as close to the Legendary Stardust Cowboy's appeal as I can really convey. Because watching this kid, I was not laughing at him, I was reacting to one of those moments that really defies rational explanation, the pure what the fuck joy. A toddler with his face in the sand just doesn't give a fuck. Don't we all wish we had a little of that? The Ledge has a lot of it.
The Legendary Stardust Cowboy is a self taught musician who is far from what a normal person would consider talented. But through perseverance, he's eked out a four and a half decade career being just as nuts as he wants. He managed to get signed to Mercury Records, appear on national television, have the "Stardust" part of his name lifted by David Bowie. He's actually had a song covered by Bowie. He's the only musician to have his music banned by NASA, and he's been backed by three members of the Gun Club. (Check the links below.) He's been the subject of many written pieces trying to make sense of him, trying to figure out just what makes him tick. From all appearances, the guy is bat shit crazy. But, really now. The world is batshit crazy. He's normal.
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Finally. Friday. I know, this isn't the greatest pre-weekend song, but it's the one that came to mind. I don't thing I've ever heard a version of it that has had the abandon that the song really deserves. Who knows, maybe the Easybeats really cut it loose live? Bowie didn't really give it any added oomph, but he did manage to slip "feel like fucking you" into the backing vocals. Someone needs to take this song and really go nuts. I'm sure someone has had to, but I haven't heard it. If you have, by all means, pipe in.
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Okay, here's an oddball. Carl Perkins versus David Bowie in a knife fight. It's a short scene from an mid-eighties movie called Into The Night. What it lacks in length, quality and overall pizzazz, it makes up for as a bizarre curiosity. Teaser: Perkins pulls a knife out of his chest to go after Bowie. All I'm sayin'.
How could a remix of a David Bowie song possibly get my attention? When it's not really remixed, but recreated with all new backing tracks. Yeah, I know, that's still kind of ho-hum, but hold on. The backing tracks were recorded by members of the Budos Band, the Dap-Kings, and the Menahan Street Band. Looking better? The story behind it is that EMI asked four DJs from KCRW (in Santa Monica, CA), to remix it, to commemorate some deluxe reissue. One of the DJs, Jeremy Sole, went all out, taking it with him to Dunham Studios in Brooklyn, which astute Dapheads will recognize as the studio for Daptone Records. Here's what he had to say:
"My plan was to not remix, but re-play the song in a full live setting, as if in 1975 Bowie recorded the original and then flew to Brooklyn (or even Jamaica) to cut another take with “my” players. Everything was recorded 100% analog to 2” tape. All equipment that was available before 1975. My approach was to take influence of the Jamaican musicians (and recording styles) of the mid-seventies, and their infatuation with American Soul music."
Check it out. Whether or not you think it has any sort of Jamaican sound to it, it is sort of interesting. There is a little dub in spots. Personally, I think it could use a little more chunka-chunka guitar, but I'm an admitted armchair record producer, so my opinion usually has a little blowhard in it anyways.
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I don't know what year it was, sometime after Mott the Hoople broke up, when Ian Hunter was touring with Mick Ronson. I went to see Hunter with my younger brother (who was, and still is, a diehard Mott freak), and a couple other guys. Having never seen Mott the Hoople live, it was bittersweet, not because we weren't seeing the Mott (we were, after all, getting to see him with Mick Ronson) but because the show was being held in the gymnasium of a local college, hardly an optimum venue. The sound was not what you'd hope for, in fact it flat out sucked. Still, it was Ian Hunter with Mick Ronson. I kept trying to block out the negative aspects and just enjoy it for what it was.
It was about mid-show, when my friend, Larry, took the wind right outta the sails. You know how sometimes people, when they're under the influence, can say something that is so dead on, that you wonder if they could have come up with it if they were straight? Mid-song, my friend Larry, who had ingested something more potent than alcohol, leans over to me and says "he's got to feel pretty silly down there." It stung, because he was absolutely right. There was Ian Hunter, with a top hat on, all dolled up, trademark shades and all, surrounded by the smoke from a fog machine, in the middle of a gymnasium floor. The audience was on the bleachers. Ian Hunter had been reduced to a pep rally.
That sad image stuck with me for years. I tried to block out the memory the best I could, but it would still reoccur. It was as if the splendor had been ripped out of Ian Hunter's life, and I had a hard time imagining him the recipient of the respect that he deserved. That was until another friend posted a video of Hunter online. It's Hunter, David Bowie, and Mick Ronson, at the Freddie Mercury tribute concert held in a packed Wembley Stadium, in 1992. They're playing with the Mercury-less Queen. The song, "All the Young Dudes," was written by Bowie, and given to Mott the Hoople in the early seventies. To say that the three are in their element, and know it, is an understatement. They're absolutely relishing it. Bowie in particular. At about 1:33 he says something in Ronson's ear, and you can almost hear him saying, "Isn't this fuckin' great?" The dude is feeling it. If you were to ask me a month ago, if the sight of a blissed out David Bowie would be watchable, I'd tell you to get out of my house. But, this sucker made me temporarily drop my Bowie hatchet. (It's bliss time at 2:25 in the clip.) I have come to the stark, and adult, realization that I don't have to like much about Bowie. This and that is okay. He doesn't have to "touch my soul," he just has to make a few songs that make me move, or make me think. That he can do.
Anyway, here's some Hunter, Bowie and Ronson stuff. The video I just mentioned is the one above. You have to check out the Mott the Hoople video of the same song, below. It is worthy. And the music...I forgot that some of these songs had so much going on in them. If you haven't heard them in a while, take a minute. And check that Bowie/Booker T mash up too. It's interesting, and surprisingly good.
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