STATION TO STATION was the soundtrack to Bowie’s nightlife. This time around he fashioned himself as the king of slick, the “Thin White Duke/Throwing darts in lover’s eyes.” This new persona enabled Bowie to show his sensual side and his affection for American soul music–something that would have seemed out of context on previous efforts.
The album’s smooth vibe is evident in the funky guitar of “Golden Years,” and mixed with a dangerous charm and the “side effects of the cocaine” on “Stay.” Bowie had miraculously done it again–he picked up a new musical identity, and molded it to perfection.
STATION TO STATION was a refining period for Bowie. Gone was his other-worldly sexuality; The Thin White Duke was right here on Earth, no alien veneer, just a man completely run by his desires. It is then purely appropriate that the medium through which he expressed this lustful angle would be soul music. Carlos Alomar’s biting guitar on “Golden Years” is straight out of the James Brown catalog, while the frantic drums and background vocals of “Stay” are pure strobe light disco.

It seems hard to believe, given the career full of revolutionary and hugely influential stylistic shifts that followed, that this superb record was only David Bowie’s fourth. Yet HUNKY DORY ranks alongside ZIGGY STARDUST, LOW, and SCARY MONSTERS as one of Bowie’s finest and most consistent albums. Ironically, it is one of the artist’s least rock-oriented efforts, bearing little relation to what came before or after in his discography. Instead, HUNKY DORY covers a wide range of styles from operatic pop (”Life on Mars?”) to low-key folk (”Quicksand”) to English music hall ditties (”Kooks”).
There are standout tracks, most notably the glam-rock anthem “Oh, You Pretty Things!” and the chugging, life-affirming “Changes,” which went on to become one of Bowie’s all-time signature songs. But HUNKY DORY is solid from beginning to end, thanks to the fine musicians, Bowie’s excellent songwriting, and the artist’s now-mature sense of performance. These qualities fold such wild cards as the tongue-in-cheek celebrity send-up “Andy Warhol,” the psychedelic folk of “The Bewlay Brothers,” and exuberant jam of “Queen Bitch,” the album’s only overt rocker, neatly into the deck, making for the first of Bowie’s truly indisputable masterpieces.

Personnel: David Bowie (vocals, guitar, piano); John Lennon (vocals, guitar); Carlos Alomar, Earl Slick (guitar); David Sanborn (saxophone); Mike Garson (piano); Willie Weeks, Emir Kassan (bass); Andy Newmark, Dennis Davis (drums); Larry Washington (congas); Pablo Rosario, Ralph McDonald (percussion); Ava Cherry, Robin Clark, Jean Fineberg, Jean Millington, Luther Vandross (background vocals).
Producers: Tony Visconti, David Bowie, Harry Maslin.
Recorded at Electric Ladyland, New York, New York.
This is an Enhanced CD, which contains both regular audio tracks and multimedia computer files.
Personnel: David Bowie (vocals); John Lennon (vocals, guitar); Luther Vandross (vocals); Earl Slick, Carlos Alomar (guitar); David Sanborn (saxophone); Mike Garson (piano); Willie Weeks (bass guitar); Dennis Davis, Andy Newmark (drums).
David Bowie abandoned the glam/sci-fi personae of Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane and Diamond Dogs with this radical departure. Recorded at Sigma Sound Studios, the home of Philadelphia International, it featured the label’s crack house band and, as a result, confirmed the singer’s growing love of soul and R&B. Pulsating dance grooves abound, in particular on the disco-influenced ‘Fame’, which topped the US singles chart. The song was co-written with John Lennon, a compliment Bowie repaid by reinventing the Beatles’ ‘Across The Universe’ as a dancefloor classic. Such self-confidence abounds throughout this album which shows the singer firmly in command of yet another musical direction.

After summing up his maverick tendencies on Scary Monsters, David Bowie aimed for the mainstream with Let’s Dance. Hiring Chic guitarist Nile Rodgers as a co-producer, Bowie created a stylish, synthesized post-disco dance music that was equally informed by classic soul and the emerging new romantic subgenre of new wave, which was ironically heavily inspired by Bowie himself. Let’s Dance comes tearing out of the date, propulsed by the skittering “Modern Love,” the seductively menacing “China Girl,” and the brittle funk of the title track. All three songs became international hits, and for good reason — they’re catchy, accessible pop songs that have just enough of an alien edge to make them distinctive. However, that careful balance is quickly thrown off by a succession of pleasant but unremarkable plastic soul workouts. “Cat People” and a cover of Metro’s “Criminal World” are relatively strong songs, but the remainder of the album indicates that Bowie was entering a songwriting slump. However, the three hits were enough to make the album a massive hit, and their power hasn’t diminished over the years, even if the rest of the record sounds like an artifact. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, AMG

This is an Enhanced CD, which contains both regular audio tracks and multimedia computer files.
Personnel: David Bowie (vocals, various instruments); Brian Eno (vocals, piano, chamberlin, synthesizer); Robert Fripp, Carlos Alomar (guitar); George Murray (bass guitar); Dennis Davis (percussion).
Recording information: Hansa By The Wall, Berlin, Germany (1977).
The Germanic feel of this album is not surprising, as David Bowie recorded it in Berlin during his period of infatuation with the city. HEROES is a much more lively affair than LOW and has the benefit of a title track that remains one of Bowie’s finest songs, in addition to excellent contributions from Robert Fripp and Brian Eno.
The thick, mysterious textures of “Beauty and the Beast” set the tone for the rest of the album. The Eno-influenced “Sense of Doubt” is the flip side to the majestic “Heroes”–dark and moody, as is “Neukoln”. But, despite (or perhaps because of) the charged atmosphere of doom and gloom, this is a seminal Bowie album.

This is an Enhanced CD, which contains both regular audio tracks and multimedia computer files.
Personnel: David Bowie (vocals, guitar, harmonica, saxophone); Mick Ronson (guitar, piano, background vocals); Ken Fordham (flute, saxophone); Mike Garson (piano); Trevor Bolder (bass instrument); Mike Woodsmansey (drums); Linda Lewis, Juanita Franklin, G.A. MacCormack (background vocals).
It’s no surprise that ALADDIN SANE and PIN UPS came out in the same year. Each drip with the seedy sexuality of London’s late ’60s sexual revolution. Yet, while PIN UPS was a mid-’60s sampling of influences–a glorified cover album–ALADDIN SANE was all Bowie.
Stepping out of the Ziggy Stardust shadow (Bowie would announce his temporary retirement from the stage later that year), ALADDIN SANE was the aftermath of Ziggy’s visit, a brutal memoir of the drugs, sex and glamour that a young starlet could find at the time. “Forget that I’m 50/’Cause you just got paid,” Bowie croons, adopting the persona of a “Cracked Actor,” and one wonders how far stardom had pushed Bowie. Was he indeed a lad insane?
The macho guitar rave-ups are a brilliant spewing of the PIN UPS influences. Mick Ronson’s searing guitar is beautiful trash, made of Stonesy grind and dangerous Kinks-like riffing. Bowie is at an evocative peak, his vocals at once voyeuristic and enticing. His cover of “Let’s Spend The Night Together” sends an unwashed shiver up the back, and his youthful exuberance on “Panic In Detroit” is charmingly believable.
ALADDIN SANE showed that Bowie was an artist with staying power that reached beyond his previous Martian Cult status.