10 David Bowie Songs That Could Do With A Bit More Exposure

Since it’s the three year anniversary of the passing of one of the country’s most beloved and influential musicians, I thought I’d compile a list of some of his perhaps lesser-known recordings that I feel are well worth a listen.

‘Blackout’ from “Heroes” (1977)

Whether the title pertains to either the rolling blackouts that plagued postwar Berlin or the likely blackouts ensuing from Bowie’s mid-seventies period is unclear but ‘Blackout’ fits either one. The babbling lyric and frantic drums during the breakdown provide a wonderful sense of madness.

‘Jump They Say’ from ‘Black Tie White Noise’ (1993)

Touted as Bowie’s solo comeback single after Tin Machine’s dissolution, ‘Jump They Say’ actually has a similar musical palette to swan song ‘Blackstar’, namely that of deranged jazz. Throughout, Bowie’s voice goes between detached resignation and flashes of panic and dread, giving the impression of a mind coming apart at the seams.

Inspired in part by half-brother Terry Burn’s 1985 suicide, the video homages classic sci-fi films like 2001 while foreshadowing the kind of workplace paranoia and atrocities that would come to dominate the decade’s cinema in ‘Fight Club’ and ‘American Psycho’

Although it hit Number 9 on the UK charts, none of Bowie’s nineties hits had the kind of resonance that his seventies work enjoyed, sadly.

‘The Hearts Filthy Lesson’ from ‘Outside’ (1995)

Even as a fan of ‘Outside’ (or ‘1. Outside’), I’ll admit it’s an overstuffed affair at 75 minutes and 19 tracks several of which are largely ‘mood pieces’ consisting of distorted monologues and abstract backing tracks. ‘Outside’ is certainly Bowie’s most obvious homage to William Burroughs, with its many cutup lyrics featuring the entwinement of murder and art (dubbed as ‘artcrime’ in the liner notes/manual) and a fragmented but disturbing narrative. Berlin collaborator Brian Eno even returned after almost fifteen years, so ‘Outside’ was never going to be seen as much of a commercial sell.

That said, lead single ‘The Hearts Filthy Lesson’ encapsulated much of the best parts of both seventies and nineties Bowie in one track. ‘Aladdin Sane’ piano lines and Nine Inch Nails-like guitar fuzz coupled with a thoroughly unhinged vocal and video made for an effective statement of intent. This wasn’t your Dad’s Ziggy Stardust, for sure.

Unfortunately, it didn’t make for much of a hit and ‘Outside’s billing as part one of a three or even five act cycle was soon forgotten although rumours of sequel material persist. Bowie reportedly had plans for a follow-up as late as the week before his death.

That said, ‘Outside’s ideas of ‘art crime’ and ritualistic sacrifices would see a sort-of successor in ‘Blackstar’ tracks ‘Sue (Or In A Season Of Crime)’ and ‘Girl Loves Me’.

‘The Motel’ from ‘Outside’ (1995)

One of three key points where Bowie addresses the narrative he’s constructing from a different viewpoint.

An epic on a small scale. Everything’s a little bit small and seedy but the crisis of Bowie’s own artistry takes the centre. 

‘The Motel’ reads like a bonfire for his own theatricality, in parts playing like an elegy to the theatricalities of Ziggy Stardust and the Diamond Dogs and Glass Spider sets, a premature ‘Rock ’n’ Roll Suicide a third of the way in.

“Explosion falls upon deaf ears
While we're swimming in a sea of sham
Living in the shadow of vanity
A complex fashion for a simple man”

You could think of ‘The Motel’ as another dig at the eighties but I’d argue it goes further, the final line above being Bowie taking aim at himself. The Glass Spider Tour’s theatricality overshadowed the music at times, with dance and theatre numbers between several tracks as Bowie toured for one of his weakest albums. ‘The Motel’ reads in part like a confession that all the showbiz eroded the value of the work.

All these bells and whistles, all this ceremony to cover up one’s own insecurities at the fact that nothing anyone does really matters. God, that’s depressing.

If Tin Machine was the musical rebuke to the position Bowie had got himself into by the end of the eighties, then ‘The Motel’ could be seen as a lyrical follow-up.

It’s this spiral into existential despair both within the album’s narrative and on the outside.

‘I’m Afraid Of Americans’ (V1 Remix Edit) from ‘Earthling’ (1997)

And the winner of ‘hilariously/worryingly prophetic track’ goes to this one surely.

Despite the hyperbolic title and video, the song deals with the sad resignation to cultural homogenisation, or as Bowie himself put it:

“I was traveling in Java when [its] first McDonald's went up: it was like, "for fuck's sake." The invasion by any homogenized culture is so depressing, the erection of another Disney World in, say, Umbria, Italy, more so. It strangles the indigenous culture and narrows expression of life.”

Maybe there’s a meta joke in having American Bowie fan and nineties Bowie replacement Trent Reznor dominate both the new arrangement and music video. In it, Reznor plays a convincing thug who pursues a paranoid Bowie through New York. The elder artist hallucinates acts of violence all around him as he runs, perhaps a wry nod to the clash between UK and US cultures around guns.

It’s since become a late-era favourite, with Bowie playing it through his final few tours and Reznor performing it frequently with Nine Inch Nails since 2013.

It’s Gonna Be Me (Strings Version) - Outtake from ‘Young Americans’ (1975), 2007 Special Edition

The most luxurious sending track from the ‘Young Americans’ sessions, and possibly one of the saddest songs Bowie ever wrote. 

The lyric, particularly the part “I want to race down her street / And knock hard / Hard, hard on the door until / Until she breaks down into my arms like a / Treasured toy and I feel her pain / I’ll be so strong, again and again” has made me think of this as a bizarro-version of “Heroes”. Rather than an anonymous howl against the tide, ‘It’s Gonna Be Me’ opts for drowning alone up close and personal.

Ignore the demoey ’Gouster’ version off Parlophone’s exploitative box set and listen to the ‘strings version’; they’re essential to the track.

The part around the 4:30 mark where Bowie leans right in to the microphone captures all the intimacy the album cover suggests.

‘Who Can I Be Now?’ - Outtake from ‘Young Americans’ (1975), 2007 Special Edition

Another outtake track, and along with ‘It’s Gonna Be Me’ this really shouldn’t have been cut in favour of the dodgy cover of ‘Across The Universe’. (Said cover was done mainly to butter John Lennon up to get him in the studio, surely it had served it’s purpose by then?)

Anyway, whether you approach this as Bowie making another wry nod to his chameleonic nature a la ‘Changes’ or just as a straight soul track, it’s well worth a listen.

‘Atomica’ - Outtake from ‘The Next Day’ (2013), 2013 ’The Next Day Extra’ bonus disc

Starting from 1999’s ’Hours’, David Bowie entered what he dubbed as his ‘neo-classicist’ era. A more cynical commentator may also describe this as the point where Bowie stopped trying (at least until ‘Blackstar’). If they did then I’d point to ‘Atomica’, one of the most out and out rockers from ‘The Next Day’s sessions. It’s one of his most straight up campy and fun tracks from the post-millennium period, second only to the next track.

‘Pablo Picasso’ from ‘Reality’ (2003)

 For me, this one of his most underrated covers off one of his most underrated albums. 2003’s ‘Reality’ actually has a very similar crew behind it to ’The Next Day’ (hot take: I feel TND is overrated for what is a pretty boilerplate album, especially next to ‘Blackstar’)

What’s more, ‘Reality’ actually has a few more fun numbers to boot. Take this cover of a Modern Lovers track from the 1970s. Bowie’s best covers come across like tracks that an idle listener wouldn’t think were covers, and that’s the case here. The rhyming couplet “Pablo Picasso never got called an asshole” could have been a classic Bowie line from the seventies.

‘The Supermen’ (1971 Rerecording), originally from ‘The Man Who Sold The World’ (1970)

This version was recorded during the ‘Ziggy Stardust’ sessions and released on the 1972 Glastonbury Fayre compilation album. 

Later released on the 1990 Rykodisc version of ‘Hunky Dory’ (1971) and the 30th Anniversary reissue of ‘The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars’ (1972, 2002). Good luck finding any of those.

I really like the Nietzsche reference in the title and Bowie’s operatic vocal performance and this acoustic rerecording juxtaposes this with a subdued new arrangement. I could hear this being sung at either Glastonbury or around a bonfire and it would fit.

‘Under The God’ from ‘Tin Machine’ (1989)

Tin Machine were nobody’s favourite band. 

As far as record companies were concerned, they were ‘Metal Machine Music’ turned artistic quartet. They released two albums and a concert recording and only the first album is available on iTunes. This is partly due to label issues but it’s not too big a jump to imagine some people wanted to forget about the whole thing.

David Bowie argued that his time with Tin Machine rejuvenated him artistically and it lead to him producing much more interesting and experimental material than any of his 1983-7 material. Tin Machine’s role in Bowie’s career is unfairly omitted from almost all career retrospectives and it is difficult to reimagine famous rock artist David Bowie deliberately becoming part of an anonymous rock band for a few years.

But it happened, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that the album’s alright.

In particular, one of their first UK singles (charting at a whopping number 51) was actually a pretty catchy proto-grunge number. A poppy hook in hard rock clothing that encapsulates their reputation as a Nirvana precursor.

David Bowie’s work will no doubt go on to inspire countless generations and I’m thankful that so much of his work exists. R.I.P.

DIIV: Is The Is Are (Album Review)

Originally published on the 'Tap' student website on February 8th 2016.
I knew nothing about the shoegazing genre back then. I'm afraid I still don't.

DIIV: Is The Is Are – Review

Amidst allegations and internal tensions resulting in the loss of drummer Colby Hewitt, Diivhave not only not split up, but they’ve produced an album of a much higher quality than many expected considering the circumstances. The fact that they’ve decided to self-produce the record to get the sound they want is reassuring, as is the sound of ‘Is The Is Are’; Diiv have come back strongly.

Owing to their self-production, ‘Is The Is Are’ is a rawer affair than ‘Oshin’, in parts sounding like the glassy sheen of their usual sound is slipping in places. This rawer edge is constant throughout most of the album; opener ‘Out Of Mind’ kicks off with what sounds like the band warming up, ‘Valentine’s’ otherwise smooth dreamy arrangement is shot through with guitar feedback that mingles with the backing vocals. They are welcome developments, Diiv sound more like a band performing in a studio, and I’m all for a record that shows how a band performs live, then again I am the kind of pretentious fellow who would go for the live cut over the studio mix because it sounds more like what the band wanted over how the record stands up as a piece of music. It’s safe to say that ‘Is The Is Are’ accomplishes the rare feat of sounding less overproduced without sounding like it’s been done for it’s own sake.

The strongest tracks are where they go out of their comfort zone, where indeed the slick mask does slip off a little; the ragged rhythms and guitar squeals sprawling over ‘Incarnate Devil’ provide one of the albums high points. ‘Blue Boredom’s bass-driven, almost dancey arrangement and Sky Ferreira’s guest vocals are a nice shift and present one of the album’s more focused numbers and the title track successfully straddles the line between Diiv’s shoegazing roots and a more conventional rock sound.

That said, the album could have done with an edit, some of the songs such as ‘Bent’, and ‘Dopamine’ are very similar to fare on their last album. ‘(Fuck)’ and ‘(Napa)’ certainly could have been cut, as they add little to the album and serve as little more than padding. I have never heard an album where these short musical interludes have played a part other than a distraction to the main attraction, and ‘Is The Is Are’ is not an exception; surely they would be better used as parts of other tracks. As it is, 'Is The Is Are’ wouldn’t be out of place if sold as a double-album.

Is The Is Are is the kind of album that demands a complete listen; the paranoid lyrics and packed arrangements pull you in rather quickly. Diiv can still produce entrancing dream-pop material, but Is The Is Are shows signs of evolution. It’s an album that retains all of ‘Oshin’s’ strengths and some of their weaknesses; a darker piece of work perhaps but it’s a stronger, more cohesive album overall.

Download: 'Incarnate Devil’, 'Is The Is Are’ and 'Blue Boredom’

Rated as a 7/10 in retrospect.

Originally published for the 'Tap' student magazine on February 5th 2016.
I've been listening to a lot of David Bowie over the past few weeks.
Expect a new Bowie article soon.

David Bowie: Blackstar - Review

This is it, the final chapter in a career unlike any other, and David Bowie’s final album, and similarly to 2013’s comeback ‘The Next Day’, ‘Blackstar’ shows that Major Tom, Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, Halloween Jack, The Thin White Duke, Pierrot The Clown, Jareth The Goblin King or ‘just’ David Bowie, he wasn’t done with us yet, not even close. With it’s unique sound, apparently the result of Bowie and producer Tony Visconti listening to Kendrick Lamar’s ‘To Pimp A Butterfly’ and a desire to “avoid rock ’n’ roll”, ‘Blackstar’ takes its place in David Bowie’s career as not just his final album, but also one of his finest.
The album opens with the title track, which appropriately sets the tone. 

It shifts and turns at every moment, the first half welding gregorian chants and jazz elements to a stuttering drum and bass rhythm with each part offsetting another part to give the track a wholly unsettling but infectious tone.
Halfway through the chants take prominence, and give way to a syrupy sweet synth sound and one of Bowie’s most touching vocal performances coupled with his most unsettling lyrics since 1995’s ‘Outside’.

The whole track sounds similar to the jagged rhythms of ‘Outside’ meeting the sweeping soundscapes of the Berlin Trilogy.
Superior rerecordings of 2014’s ‘Sue’ and ‘'Tis A Pity She Was A Whore’ follow. The jazz band used for ‘Sue’ has been buried underneath a turbulent new bassline and drumbeat; distorted guitars wailing at every turn make the track very reminiscent of Bowie’s mid nineties collaborations with Nine Inch Nails. ‘’Tis A pity She Was A Whore’ benefits greatly from the new production, the percussion’s crisp and the lyrics are clearer in the mix. It’s moved away from 2014’s muddled dance number to a more sinister piece, the dark counterpart of the jazz / dance fare on 1993’s ‘Black Tie White Noise’.

Album centrepiece ‘Lazarus’ with lines such as “Look at me / I’m up in heaven” is impossible to listen to without thinking of the obvious. Nevertheless, it stands out as one of the strongest pieces on the record.
It, like the rest of the album, is mournful, but still restless, moving from fast rhythms to a slow, funeral twang.

The second part of Blackstar winds things down to a more cinematic sound in places. The frenetic beats take a step back with larger, slower arrangements dominating the final three tracks. Girl Loves Me piles in references to A Clockwork Orange alongside Nineteen Eighty-Four on top of sweary references to mortality, while ‘Dollar Days’ seems self-deprecatory in places, opening with the riffling of paper money, perhaps referencing Bowie’s admittance to selling out in the 1980’s, who knows. ‘Blackstar’ also shows a progression from ‘The Next Day’, where he showed what he could do with callbacks to each stage of his career, ‘Blackstar’ shows he was still willing to experiment. Don’t get me wrong, despite the album being full of sly nods to parts of his career, David Bowie has never sounded like this before. 

Every track carries an appropriate atmosphere of finality with multiple callbacks to different phases of his career, whether it’s a harmonica practically identical to the parts on ‘Low’, or the jewel-encrusted skeleton in the ‘Blackstar’, supposedly the remains of Major Tom, which would appropriately bookend well with his first appearance (1969’s ‘Space Oddity’ considered the canon beginning to his career).

Many of the tracks run past the five-minute mark, and more casual listeners may be turned off by this fact. It may stand as one of David Bowie’s finest achievements, but that’s not to say it won’t challenge listeners, the title track doesn’t feature anything resembling a vocal until over five minutes in.
David Bowie’s long-time collaborator Tony Visconti describes Blackstar as “his parting gift”, and as a conclusion to a career unequalled in its unpredictability and quality, it succeeds. David Bowie may be gone, but it’s been one hell of a ride.

Download: The entire album, you won’t hear anything like this for a long time.

I didn't do number ratings back then, but I'd likely place this as a 10/10 in hindsight.

Old Prose

So way back in 2015, I wrote three little bits of prose to provide a fictional comedic preface to some playlists of songs I was listening to at the time.
I recently stumbled across them and thought they were entertaining enough to post here.
I'll provide some commentary on them for additional value.

Here goes:

1 - The Rooftop (2015)

I found him waiting for me, on the rooftops. Already facing away, as if he'd accepted my death as a fact already. My ragged breath brought his head up, and my words turned him around;

"Who are you?"

His lips contorted into what only a cynic would call a smile. He straightened his suit as he strode towards across the rooftops. He circled me and ran his hand across my shoulders.

"So you are still alive," His voice was lined with disappointment, I felt compelled to answer.

"I expected something more." I tried my best to imitate his contempt. Bad idea.

He laughed, almost uncontrollably. I wanted to fling myself off the concrete rooftop as I watched his laughter turn to retching. He spat several globs of blood-flecked mucus before he could regain his composure.

"Something more? Ohh, you've only reached the tip of the iceberg, there's so much more for me to share with you."

I had to run, get away by any means possible. Even the pavement below was becoming a more welcoming sight than another moment here.

Too late, I felt the cold stab of his fingers in my temples.

For a moment I saw nothing, then strings of numbers and words knitted themselves together before my eyes...

So this one was a shameless ripoff of a scene from the 2009 PS3 game 'Infamous'. I kept the 'mysterious figure's identity hidden mainly to avoid too many direct comparisons. 

Looking back, I don't know who I was fooling. But nevertheless, the style was pretty in line with my later attempts at YA fiction so I'm not embarrassed by it.

2 - Asylum (2015)

"Oh god, what is that smell?"

James clutched at his notebook as he forced down a wave of nausea.

He felt like a fool for asking, as Dr. Sharp was quick to point out the excrement streaked across the cell through the square window in the door.

He heard scrabbling, the patient had a limp, often crawled around on all fours. The scrabbling grew louder.

Whump.

The door rattled in its frame from the impact, and James caught a glimpse of matted hair and red-streaked eyes on the other side.

The scrabbling subsided. James turned to Dr. Sharp.

"Why’ve you brought me down here? He’s worse if anything!"

"I thought that too, but take another look. There’s progress."

James focused on the walls, the dark smears, they seemed to form, letters? Words?

It wasn’t just the scrawling of a madman, no, these were deliberate, purposeful.

James checked his notebook, yesterday’s work. He had written in a trance. Now he wasn’t so sure. Every word, symbol, accent, bracket placement was identical to to the large clumsy shapes he saw on the cell walls.

Another sound from the cell, a muffled, choked, rhythm of breath. It was laughter.

I'd completely forgotten that I had ever written this one. Interestingly, it shows off what I think is the only recurring character in my written fiction so far. Dr Clarence Sharp was inspired by a couple of real and fictional people way back when I was still in school, probably 2013 or as early as 2012. He originally appeared in a piece I did for English in early 2013, as I always had an interest in the 'unsympathetic mad scientist' figure and wanted to work out what made characters like that tick. This piece isn't the most insightful view of Sharp though he certainly comes across as a stuffy authority figure even here. I just needed a scientist guy and Sharp fit the bill.

O'Brien from 1984 was the main inspiration though, and he remains one of my favourite villains from my favourite book. Real people inspirations were probably dozens of authority figures we've all dealt with. Dr Clarence Sharp will probably pop up in future fiction as he's a reliable collection of tropes.
My gratuitous use of italics comes from me reading 'American Psycho' around this time.

3 - Untitled Medieval Piece (2015)

The hero fell, beaten. Each gash in his armour softly wept with his blood. A final blow to the face flung him back against an unforgiving brick wall. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, he could only watch as the embodiment of Boredom plucked him from the ground and breathed sulphur into his face; 
"Are you finished? May we begin now?" Boredom held out an unfamiliar tool in his other hand.
In response, the hero spat in his face.
"Never, there's no way I'd stoop that low!"
Boredom laughed, a knowing, condescending life that filled the hero's heart with dread.
"Come now, my friend. We both know that isn't true."
He dropped the hero to the ground, who hurriedly staggered to his feet, his face upheld in a noble stance as he spoke.
"So that's what it's to be? Torture?" He did his best to let out a carefree laugh, "I was raised in the Gloucestershire planes of stagnation! It'll take a little more to break my spirit!"
A pad of paper fluttered down to his feet, followed by a biro and a strange opalized cuboid. Was this.... an iPod? He knelt to pick up this assortment of objects and looked up to find Boredom wearing a new expression; one of triumph.
"Surely you don't mean-?" He faltered as Boredom interrupted with glee.
"That's right, my friend. I want you to make a playlist!"
In that instant any resolve the hero was on his knees, sobbing like a child.
"Oh God no! Anything else!" He wept fiercely, "You know I won't be able to stop until I have a thirty-plus song list of ones I think go together pretty well!"
Boredom was cackling madly;
"Exactly! You won't be able to get any work done now until you finish!"
Broken both physically and mentally, the hero slumped in the dirt and screamed in anguish as he came to terms with this fate and his self-inflicted trial began.......


This is actually the earliest piece, finalised and posted in early 2015. I remember having fun writing this. I think in hindsight it was inspired by watching a lot of fantasy films, maybe some Studio Ghibli as well come to think of it. Not posting the actual playlist so you'll just have to assume I had taste that was better than my fiction. It's probably my favourite of the three bits here.
I often enjoy villains that are not only entertaining but enjoy being villains. Boredom here is a pretty basic example of what I mean but I think the point comes across.

Gary Numan 1988 - 1989: Signing with IRS Records, ‘Metal Rhythm’, ‘The Skin Mechanic’ and The Fuckery Begins

I originally wrote this piece of work in my notes app in late 2017.

Back then, my reasons for even bothering largely came down to the fact that there's little to no coverage of Gary Numan's 'middle-period' work online whether in reviews or general coverage, specifically the 1984-2000 live albums.

I thought I could rectify that issue, since I had copies of not only Gary's 1998 autobiography 'Praying To The Aliens' but 'Electric Pioneer Redux' and 'Gary Numan Tracks' as well as a strong liking for him as an artist. 

Initially, I just wanted to write reviews of the live albums that pointed to how strong and versatile a live performer Numan was, even in the most difficult years of his career.

I soon realised that I would have to provide a fair bit of context for each album before giving my thoughts on each live album.

The reviews developed into providing a broad outline of some of Gary's more overlooked works and their historical context, later accompanied by my own thoughts on the music and situations.

This was the third piece I wrote after the 'White Noise' and 'Ghost' articles. The former was a fairly straight review while the latter paved the way for all subsequent pieces.

I also started adding my own bits of commentary, mainly to make me feel a bit more comfortable and like less of a stuffy music critic but also to provide a little more entertainment value to some otherwise very dry pieces.

This is where I think the series really hit its stride. 

Aside from adding images and captions, the following post is 99.9% unchanged aside from a few grammatical tweaks.

Disclaimer: I am definitely not a proper critic. I'm just a fan trying to spread knowledge and laughs. Any facts I've provided can be readily found online or in any of the books I've mentioned.

Anyway, here we go:

So, after the tragic but not entirely unexpected demise of Numa Records in 1987/8, Gary decided to sign up to IRS records, who immediately believed they could salvage his flagging career within a matter of months.

They could not.

Metal Rhythm

Seeing as by this point, Gary Numan was entering one of the lowest periods of his career, it may be surprising for some that ‘Metal Rhythm’ was probably his most cohesive set of songs since ‘I, Assassin’ in 1982.

At an even 10 tracks and lasting 42 minutes, it was a more succinct affair than more recent attempts where tracks might meander for over seven minutes apiece. Coupled with a largely more pointed lyrical bent, ‘Metal Rhythm’ was a relative return to form, with the song quality being far more consistent than the lopsided ‘Strange Charm’. Where ‘Strange Charm’ was half good-to-great tracks and half filler-at-best, ‘Metal Rhythm’ was 80% decent material and a couple of weak numbers (the go-nowhere attempt at an anthem ‘America’ and the whining ‘Cold Metal Rhythm’).

Although cohesion doesn’t strictly translate to quality here, ‘Metal Rhythm’s commercial production and reliance on brassy synth hooks and tinny percussion takes the punch out of the lyrics at times.

Admittedly, Gary continuing to pursue a more radio-friendly sound and writing increasingly antagonistic lyrics does result in an oddly compelling listen. Tracks like ‘This Is Emotion’ and ‘Young Heart’ showcase Gary’s ability to marry poisoned lyrical outlooks with foot-tapping rhythms and riffs.

Lyrically, ‘Metal Rhythm’ was a much more aggressive prospect than previous releases, although the success rate was more miss than hit.

Where tracks such as ‘This Is Emotion’ and ‘Voix’ were ripe with aggression and sarcastic wit, others such as ‘New Anger’ and ‘Devious’ fell completely flat, the latter two relying on the non-threatening refrain ‘do you want it?’ 

Want what? 

A common theme is betrayal and anger, being the topic of over half the album. Whether it’s Gary’s falling out with former support act Hohokam (the Prince-lite ‘Respect’), returning to the ‘Dance’ well of embittered ex-lovers (‘Devious’), or lashing out at the BBC (‘Cold Metal Rhythm’) the album does seethe at times, despite the tinny production and spotty lyrical quality.

After Numan’s reinvention in the mid 1990s, only ‘Voix’ survived into future live sets and even then with a completely new arrangement.

‘Metal Rhythm’ notably received a lukewarm-to-positive reception from the press, a stark contrast to the critical lashings Gary often received early in his career.

I'm pretty sure a leather jacket was a prerequisite for any pop star by 1988.

(Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=14652415)

The Fuckery Begins

Few of ‘Metal Rhythm’s problems can be attributed to IRS, who had not yet begun the truly astronomical levels of interference yet to come. In fact, Gary had recorded ‘Metal Rhythm’ in practically its entirety before signing up with the label.

Beyond shortening the title from ‘Cold Metal Rhythm’ (it was too depressing, apparently), the UK release was relatively unmolested.

The US release instead saw ‘Metal Rhythm’ released as ‘New Anger’ in 1989. Besides changing title (it’s so edgy), the tracks ‘Hunger’ and ‘Young Heart’ were excised and replaced with ‘A Child With The Ghost’ and a William Orbit remix of ‘My Dying Machine’, both being originally from 1984’s ‘Berserker’. 

Producer Andy Piercy was also commissioned to do some remixing, and a superior edit of ‘Devious’ replaces the original version.

I don't know why they made the album blue, but this would be Gary's last US release until Cleopatra Records released 'Exile' in 1998. These two things are probably unrelated.

(Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=14652946)

There is some logic to this move, in theory. Since Gary had had no US representation since about 1982, it would only make sense to have his first US release come with a little bit of variety. 

On the other hand, the new track order was not good and the added material doesn’t fit thematically with the rest of the album. The remix of ‘My Dying Machine’ is a notable improvement over the limp original, adding some guitar licks and stripped-down beats that aren’t too far removed from the rest of the album.

Andy Piercy also worked on a remix of ‘New Anger’, which was ultimately not used on either album release and has not yet seen an official release, being absent from the 1999 CD reissue of ‘Metal Rhythm’.

That said, the 1999 CD reissue does collect most of the tracks of the period as bonus tracks. The ’New Anger’ B-side ‘I Don’t Believe’ and eerie instrumental outtake ‘Children’ are highlights. The only missing tracks are the live tracks used as B-sides, which can be found ‘uncut’ on the live albums ‘Ghost’ and ‘The Skin Mechanic’.

New Anger, Same Old Problems

When it came to single releases, IRS didn’t have a clue.

Wonder Woman (2017)

Rather than picking one of the poppier numbers (‘Young Heart’ or ‘Devious’ would have fit right in on the late 1980s UK charts) IRS went ahead and picked ‘New Anger’ as the lead single. Gary later called IRS out as ultimately clueless as to his situation:

“I think IRS expected to have success with me straight away… Steve [IRS UK Head] was full of it, the song was going to be a big hit, it would do this, that and the other. He forgot about that in October when it reached 46 in the UK charts. We were up in his office a few weeks after the release and he said, 'Of course, you chose the wrong single there, we never wanted that one at all.' 'Hello, 'I thought, 'Earth calling Tannet.' He flatly denied that he'd chosen the single and danced around his office. It was record company bullshit supreme.”

Already an oddity on the album, being the only track resembling a conventional rock song, ‘New Anger’ bombed on the charts and reached no higher than any of Gary’s singles from his own label. 

‘New Anger’ got as high as #46 on the charts before the old problems of zero airplay saw it drop right back down again.

Perhaps realising that they had vastly underestimated Gary’s problems with getting airplay, IRS quickly commissioned a poppy remix of ‘America’ by Andy Piercy as the second single in some vain hope of rescuing the album.

Unfortunately it was too little, too late. As well as being probably the weakest track on the album (Gary later recalled “I don’t really think it makes much sense at all, it was just thinking out loud. It was really disjointed and very difficult to understand and as such it isn’t a particularly good lyric”), the track was released in December 1988 and didn’t stand a chance in the Christmas market.

Besides that, the remix added little besides a set of grating backing vocals over the chorus and some irritating radio chatter during the bridge.

‘America’ reached #49 on the charts.

The Metal Rhythm Tour and ‘The Skin Mechanic’

So, with ‘Metal Rhythm’ making it to #48 on the charts, eleven places higher than ‘Strange Charm’, Gary Numan launched a supporting UK tour.

Despite the album arguably being his best of what would later be dubbed as the “wasteland period” (1984 - 1992), only four tracks were taken from the new album.

‘Respect’, ‘Hunger’, ’New Anger’ and ‘Young Heart’ all fit comfortably alongside the rest of the material, and the full setlist was a bit more adventurous than the previous year’s ‘Exhibition Tour’, the most notable example being ’My Breathing’ as the closing number.

The Metal Rhythm Tour yielded one highlights-only live CD, marketed as ‘The Skin Mechanic’, the title coming from a lyric in ‘Hunger’, there was also a video release with an identical track listing.

To put it simply, I think this is Gary Numan’s worst official live album.

Not only was the setlist light on new material despite it being relatively well-suited to the live arena (as of 2017 only one track, the closing ballad ‘Don’t Call My Name’ has never been played live), the track selection was heavily biased towards featuring the old hits.

The resulting CD features passable renditions of ‘Metal Rhythm’ tracks and the most passionless renditions of old material possible.

‘Cars’ and ‘Are ‘Friends’ Electric?’ in particular lumber along, the band constantly sounding like they’re attempting to catch up with themselves.

Gary also messes up the lyrics on ‘Respect’, derailing the rather personal and aggressive lyrical content.

Elsewhere, tracks that require reliance on backing singers such as ‘Call Out The Dogs’ and ‘I Can’t Stop’, chug along at a dreary rate thanks to said singers sounding like they’re on the verge of sleep.

The overall sound quality is passable, but the ‘Skin Mechanic’ again suffers from the same issues that plagued ‘White Noise’ and ‘Ghost’. If you thought that those albums suffered from trying to make new wave tracks sound like proto-industrial funk, then wait until you hear how those tracks sound like when played like they’re in a Prince-themed karaoke bar. The sound mixing is pretty dire in places, cutting the audience out of most of the recording except for applause to transition between the highlights, leaving the live performances sounding oddly sterile.

This particular rendition of ‘We Are Glass’ sounds like it was played on the fucking spoons. 

One question remains:

Why on God’s green earth would you carve up a 90-minute concert to a single disc?

I mean, you came this far. What's another CD at this point?

At this point, Gary Numan was well out of the public eye, being more notable for his aerobatics than his musical output. Indeed, his previous live release was fan club-exclusive. Maybe IRS was convinced that the live material was good enough to make an impact on the charts, but didn’t have the confidence to release the entire concert even though ‘White Noise’ had actually outperformed its parent album on the UK charts and that was a complete concert recording.

Maybe, seeing as CD was still yet to fully overtake vinyl as the de facto audio format, IRS wanted to hedge their bets. Considering their woeful mishandling of Gary’s studio output, this would be a cruel joke.

Or maybe they wanted to emulate the “collector’s item” appeal of the original ‘Living Ornaments’ vinyl releases, although that would go against IRS’s initial plan to get Gary back into the UK charts. Whatever the reasoning, the presentation does nothing but harm any potential market appeal the album had in the first place.

The material is not sequenced chronologically, giving no accurate impression of the concerts to outsiders, likely limiting the release’s appeal to concert attendees who would want a memento of the experience.

‘The Skin Mechanic’ got to #55 in the charts. 

Going back to comparisons with ‘Living Ornaments’ for a moment, both ‘Living Ornaments ’79’ and ‘The Skin Mechanic’ were reissued in 1998 and 1999 respectively, in order to capitalise on Gary’s recovering career and renewed media interest. However, where ‘Living Ornaments ’79’ restored the full 21-song concert from the original master tapes, ‘The Skin Mechanic’ remained in its one-disc incarnation, with the track order slightly shuffled for no discernible reason.
The reissue does come with an informative set of liner notes from longtime biographer Steve Malins, which makes this the definitive version of the release.

The Skin Mechanic Tour - Touring for a live album

Nevertheless, the release of ‘The Skin Mechanic’ in October of 1989 was motive enough for Gary to embark on another tour, in support of the live album culled from his previous tour.

Other possible motives for his reluctance to record more material under IRS could be their cack-handed attempts at ‘improving’ his musical output, and this level of interference would only worsen with the belated release of ‘Outland’ in 1991.

Another notable factor was the release of ’Automatic’, the collaborative album with Bill Sharpe. Released a full four years after its first single, ‘Change Your Mind’, the album predictably sank when released.

‘Automatic’ was promoted by two further singles, ‘No More Lies’ and ‘I’m On Automatic’, which charted at #34 and #44 respectively. Since the album was released on Polydor Records and not IRS, this moderate success didn’t do Numan’s relations with the label much favours.

The 1989 Skin Mechanic Tour didn’t receive any full official release, despite the setlist now featuring six cuts from ‘Metal Rhythm’ (‘America’, ‘This Is Emotion’ and ‘Devious’ replaced ‘Young Heart’) and the live debut of the ‘Strange Charm’ ballad ‘This Is Love’. These differences aside, the setlist was largely unchanged. 

The 1989 Tour received a VHS release in 1990, although this was also a “highlights-only” affair, and also confusingly titled ‘The Skin Mechanic’.

‘The Skin Mechanic’ (the 1989 album) would remain Gary’s sole live album with IRS, with subsequent delays in recording follow-up album ‘Outland’ putting to rest any chances of a US tour. It wouldn’t be until the US Leg of the Exile tour in 1998 that Gary Numan would perform in America.

The 1988 - early 1991 period remains one of the lesser-documented live periods in Gary’s career, with most live recordings of this period all being third party releases of dubious quality and legal status. Most subsequent live releases are just ‘semi-official’ repackaging of either version of ’The Skin Mechanic’.

Most full concert recordings from this period are extremely hard to find bootlegs and online footage uploads are unfortunately of poor to middling quality.

2017 saw two releases dating from the 1989 Skin Mechanic Tour. Unfortunately, like the official release, they were highlights-only affairs that did not give listeners an accurate representation of Gary’s setlist at the time, both being direct reissues of the 1990 release, with no added features.

The Fuckery Continues

Although this was not yet the lowest point of Gary Numan’s career, the ‘Metal Rhythm’ period remains a period of interest for Numan’s relationship with IRS records, which would sadly only deteriorate further with the release of his next album: ‘Outland’.

Gary Numan 1986-1987: 'Strange Charm' and 'Ghost'

I originally wrote this piece of work in my notes app in late 2017.

Back then, my reasons for even bothering largely came down to the fact that there's little to no coverage of Gary Numan's 'middle-period' work online whether in reviews or general coverage, specifically the 1984-2000 live albums.

I thought I could rectify that issue, since I had copies of not only Gary's 1998 autobiography 'Praying To The Aliens' but 'Electric Pioneer Redux' and 'Gary Numan Tracks' as well as a strong liking for him as an artist. 

Initially, I just wanted to write reviews of the live albums that pointed to how strong and versatile a live performer Numan was, even in the most difficult years of his career.

I soon realised that I would have to provide a fair bit of context for each album before giving my thoughts on each live album.

The reviews developed into providing a broad outline of some of Gary's more overlooked works and their historical context, later accompanied by my own thoughts on the music and situations.

After the pretty dry 'White Noise' review, I thought adding context to the live albums would make sense. This included adding reviews of related studio albums and singles, and my own thoughts when appropriate/entertaining.

This is a review of the 1988 live release, documenting the 1987 Exhibition Tour.
But first context on circumstances surrounding Gary Numan’s situation at the time, including his 1986 album ‘Strange Charm’ and other projects.

 

Technically the 1999 CD cover, but a more fitting representation of the weirdness within.

Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=12439671

1987 was a difficult time for Gary Numan. To be fair, that could describe pretty much any point between the years 1981 and 1992, but 1987 was a special case.

By his own admission, 1986’s ‘Strange Charm’ was a forced affair, being constantly delayed before quietly sinking into the lower echelons of the Top 75 in November.

Meanwhile Gary’s aviation career had gone from strength to strength, in stark contrast to his increasing difficulty in the charts.

Despite being (in parts) a return to form musically, ‘Strange Charm’ was not a good time for Gary in general, who later spoke of his experiences:

“1986 was definitely the worst year of my career as far as the feeling goes, where I didn’t enjoy it at all. I didn’t enjoy the year and I didn’t enjoy the writing. I barely wrote enough songs to make an album and only then by doing long versions of them. I really struggled the whole year to get a song good enough to put on an album. I had no enthusiasm for it, I had no drive for it, it seemed like everything that I did was completely pointless.”

Gary also claimed that the album lacked unity, later stating “I was more concerned with creating atmospheres than threading together a common theme.”

As a result, synthesised Arabian-tinged orchestral movements (‘My Breathing’) rub shoulders with slabs of synthetic jazz (‘The Need’, ‘This Is Love’) and radio-friendly disco-rock (‘Strange Charm’, ‘I Can’t Stop’), which is exactly as cohesive as it sounds.
Tellingly, ‘Strange Charm’ would be the last album to come out on a yearly basis, Numan’s two follow-ups, ‘Metal Rhythm’ and ‘Outland’, would be released in 1988 and 1991.

Singles-wise, Gary released the dour ballad ‘This Is Love’ as the lead single for ‘Strange Charm’. Not bad song in itself at all, it was a poor advertisement for the more upbeat fare on the rest of the album. It reached number 28 on the charts.

‘I Can’t Stop’ was a much better choice for a single, being a storming combination of disco and rock influences with a catchy chorus and filled with poppy hooks. The song also lent itself well to remixes, being released in 7”, 10” and 12” versions.

It was also released in multiple formats, including two collector-friendly picture discs and the only 10” vinyl single Numan would ever release. Sadly, despite these multiple formats, due to a total lack of airplay, ‘I Can’t Stop’ stalled at number 27 before dropping off fast.

The only other original Numan song released after ‘Strange Charm’s release would be a single release of ‘I Still Remember’, the final track from 1985’s ‘The Fury’, released to support the RSPCA, with a new set of lyrics and all proceeds going to charity.

Sadly, despite the good intentions, the public were understandably not enamoured with such a depressing track. The fact that it was musically very similar to earlier single ‘This Is Love’ probably didn’t do it any favours either.

‘Strange Charm’ was not short of worthy singles material, with the title track and ‘My Breathing’ being strong potential singles. However, worsening finances coupled with the poor chartings of previous singles persuaded Gary to abandon further promotion soon after.

'Strange Charm' will always be remembered as Gary's most uneven album. Some of his best 'funk-period' tracks lie here alongside some of his worst, most uninspired pieces.

Consider this, 'My Breathing' still makes appearances in his live shows over thirty years later. No other track has been played off 'Strange Charm' in almost twenty years.

In terms of other projects, Gary Numan did experience moderate success on a collaborative single with Bill Sharpe from the group Shakatak in 1985, with the single ‘Change Your Mind’ reaching 17 on the charts in 1985. 

Follow-up single ’New Thing From London Town’ (rerecorded for ‘Strange Charm’) would only get as high as 52.

The full album, Automatic, would not appear until 1989, well after any chance at the charts had passed, limping into 59th position.

Numan had also made appearances with the supergroup Radio Heart, recording vocals for the songs ‘Radio Heart’ and ‘London Times’ in 1987. They were moderate hits, charting at 35 and 48, respectively. Not a bad showing considering they were very different to his sound at the time.

Anyway, contextual stuff aside, on to ‘Ghost’!

Prediction of Instagram 'duck face' culture or unfortunate lighting angle? You decide.

(By Source, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16598272)

This was his first live release in three years following 1985’s release of ‘White Noise’, 1984’s live showing and his first tour since 1985’s ‘The Fury’ tour, which did not receive an official live release. Gary did not tour for 1986’s ‘Strange Charm’, instead deciding to tour in support of the 1987 compilation album ‘Exhibition’ and reissues of his old albums on CD by Beggar’s Banquet, his old label. 

This campaign was spearheaded by an excellent remix of 1979’s ‘Cars’, which saw Gary re-enter the top twenty for the first time since 1983.

Seeing as the Exhibition Tour was supposedly meant to promote the compilation album, one would have expected Gary to place a larger focus on the older material.

So it’s a pleasant surprise to see that Gary didn’t totally pass up the better tracks from the new album, with most of them making appearances in Ghost.

Most notably, the moody ‘The Sleeproom’ and anthemic ‘My Breathing’ lead into a refreshingly punchy take on ‘Cars’, complete with a mid-song drum break that references the then charting ‘E Reg Model’ remix and a sarcastic introduction from Gary himself where he makes a jibe at its total lack of airplay. Which must have been hard, considering the staggering losses Numa Records was suffering at the time, leading him to cut his losses and sign to I.R.S. Records later in the year.

The title track off ‘Strange Charm’ was played on earlier dates (between ‘We Take Mystery (To Bed)’ and ‘We Are Glass’) but didn’t make it to the end of the tour.
‘Ghost’ is culled from the last two nights of the Exhibition Tour, the 25th and 26th of September 1987.

The key difference from ‘White Noise’ is that ‘Ghost’ was originally a fan club-exclusive release in 1988, and thus did not chart.

Which is odd, because although it was recorded in relatively dire circumstances, Gary and the band (largely the same, save for a new drummer) are on fine form and add a level of energy to a stable if unremarkable setlist that a lesser artist in similar circumstances might fail to muster.

Coupled with a slightly less muddy mix than it’s 1985 counterpart (granted, Gary wanted ‘White Noise’ deliberately mixed to keep the live atmosphere, but that’s a double edged sword) and more diverse setlist, ‘Ghost’ is probably the best of Gary Numan’s mid-to-late 1980’s live albums.

Unfortunately, Numan was well into his ‘industrial funk’ phase at the time, and few of the post-1984 cuts on display here have survived into his modern tours, and it’s obvious why. 

Schlock such as ‘This Disease’ and ‘Tricks’ should have been left on the cutting-room floor, and are ultimately eclipsed by all of the older material and much of the newer material as well. 

Former single ‘I Can’t Stop’ sounds quite limp compared to the storming 7” version. Indeed, several songs are let down by the backup singers, who at times sound disinterested with the material, although this could be down to the quality of the mix.

Elsewhere, some of the problems that cropped up in ‘White Noise’, such as having every song played to fit the style of his newest material and several flubbed lines crop up here as well. The former issue results in comparatively lifeless performances of ‘We Are Glass’ and ‘Down In The Park’, and the latter issue makes ‘My Shadow In Vain’ practically incoherent.

Again there are exceptions. ‘Me! I Disconnect From You’ and ‘Metal’ both sound noticeably perkier than before, though the audience actually clapping in time helps a good deal.

The one surprise of the setlist is that ‘Are ‘Friends’ Electric?’ doesn’t end the set this time, instead leading into a three-song encore of ‘Down In The Park’, ‘My Shadow In Vain’ and ‘Berserker’, the latter of which makes for a strong closing number.

The most obvious problem is the original front cover. Aside from joking about Gary Numan possibly being a ‘Blue Steel’ or ‘duck-face’ pioneer, the photograph is ugly as sin. Perhaps it was intentionally off-putting to emphasise Numan’s then well-know awkwardness and standoffish nature (later revealed to be undiagnosed Aspergers) but whatever the intentions, it’s unappealing. Thankfully, as with every Eagle Records live reissue, a superior new cover is provided. There is a copy of the original sleeve if you fancy using that instead, God knows why.

Much better.

(By Source, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16598506)

Altogether, a slightly more consistent set than ‘White Noise’ makes ‘Ghost’ the go-to option if you, for whatever reason, fancy buying up some old Gary Numan live material on a budget and only have the cash for one album to represent the 1983-1991 period.