Blackstar, the 26th and final studio album - that we know of - from David Bowie is a characteristically baleful, but reflective record that packs one last punch in style.
Blackstar is itself the opener from Master Bowie's last studio outing, built around two core chords which are almost instantly identifiable with an Eastern, Arabic or Flamenco template. Through 9 minutes 57 seconds it rumbles balefully on, a touch of Frippertronics in Ben Monder’s guitar, some wild flute here, a bit of sax there, a layered synth or keyboard bedding. There is too the merest echo of the spirit of Low on the first of these haunted corridors that are the tracks of Blackstar.
Tis Pity She’s A Whore follows – borrowing its title from John Ford’s classic mid-seventeenth century tragedy – built on a dense sonic bed, overtopped by pulsating, excitable sax. It races along like China Girl, except it’s not in fact much like China Girl in the end. Turn it to full volume and dance your way around it in your bedsit next Saturday night before you go out.
Lazarus begins on a prophetic note: “Look up here, I'm in Heaven/I've got scars that can’t be seen/I've got drama, can’t be stolen, /Everybody knows me now, “ Bowie sings in a voice which hasn't suffered much, certainly in terms of passion and commitment, bless him.
Then we get the single Sue (Or in A Season of Crime), whose music was co-composed with the American jazz musician Maria Schneider.(By the way some of Schneider’s output otherwise is too bland for real jazz, but nobody says that, she is highly respected.)
Sue has guitar feedback on top of grunge, ambient sounds and a sense of melodic cut-up and dislocation. In truth, it echoes the kind of anarchy that characterised the sophisticated end of glam rock all of forty years ago, arguably pioneered by Roxy Music’s deathless first album.
Girl Loves Me comes in a kind of staggered rhythm, a mid-tempo thing that some of the time returns to something resembling the two-chord sequence of Blackstar, but with more layered harmonies and vocals at play.
Dollar Days begins with smoochy sax, as though a romantic ballad from Sade were about to begin, but it has the kind of Mick Ronson-style guitar sound that doesn't tend to make it much on to Sade productions.It's quite a poignant song, a thing of modest beauty. I Can’t Give Everything Away concludes the album, a blithe bauble that romps breezily to the close.
In conclusion, Blackstar is not much about catchy melodies, as if the need for hit singles had gone at this stage. Ultimately, there will indeed be many who will listen attentively and many who will hang on every note and long for more from the Thin White Duke. A great swansong.
Paddy Kehoe
