Stardust, no more

The Next Day
David Bowie


One of the demigods of rock and pop culture is back after a 10-year hiatus from music-making, and he’s trying a lot of new things. Which may not be a good thing.

The album’s title track sets the tone for the discordance that the album adheres to. Guitars riff aimlessly around while bells jingle amidst Bowie’s seemingly-drunken shouts. I think we can all agree we never loved Bowie for his vocals, but it’s like he’s not trying at all on a good deal of this record. Some sort of strange disharmony bogs down almost every track, and this disharmony prevents the tracks from ever truly climaxing. You’ll listen to a whole song and wonder why it ended, because it never got anywhere.

Tracks like “How Does the Grass Grow?” are confusing, and when taken out of context (this was the first track from the album I experienced on the radio), they might cause people to be afraid of the album and steer clear of it.  Eventually the track gets to a Bowie we are fond of, but it’s hidden behind crazed group chanting.

The album shines most when Bowie stops trying so hard to be new and different and sticks to the style he knows. Ballads like “Where Are We Now?” take a break from the musical chaos and are reminiscent of the Bowie we once knew. These are a good addition to the album and they momentarily pull the work from the depths.

It’s admirable that Bowie is attempting to put out something that’s revolutionary for his work as a whole. It’s also admirable that the 66-year-old artist is still putting out music.

At least the project gave us a phenomenal music video for “The Stars (Are Out Tonight).” David Bowie and Tilda Swinton — always and forever.

Overall, the album will make it in the world because of its classic Bowie tracks like “I’d Rather Be High” and “Dancing Out In Space.” But the artist should have been content with the style we’re guaranteed to praise. The discordance makes it hard for the album to be one coherent work. There’s not enough blend or balance between Bowie’s retrospective tracks and his modern angst ones.

Buy it if you want to see a master at work, but prepare yourself to feel conflicted.

By Sam Ostrowski