A one-paragraph review of every David Bowie album

Discography Digest: David Bowie

[This is the first in a series in which I listen to an artist’s entire discography of studio albums in chronological order over the course of a week.]

I’ve been a big David Bowie fan since I was 15, but — like people tend to do when discovering artists of previous generations — I never listened to things in order or in context. Additionally, because Bowie’s catalog is massive and inconsistent, I’d never actually listened to some of it.

So I just spent the last week listening to David Bowie’s entire catalog (studio albums only) in chronological order. Here’s my very brief review of each:

David Bowie (1969) — The debut misfire. It’s English folk in which 20-year-old Bowie wants to be The Kinks. It’s bad, but it’s promisingly weird. There’s a song about forced abortions as a means of population control. A sign of weird Bowie to come. Also, “Sell Me a Coat” is lovely.

Space Oddity / David Bowie* (1969)– The album starts with the title track, which is a class and a 1,000% improvement from the previous album. Then it gets back to English folk, but it’s much more developed than the first album. The last two songs “God Knows I’m Good” and “Memory of a Free Festival” are a nice boost at the end.

*Because his debut album initial went unnoticed, Philips Records released his second album as self-titled. Once Bowie became success and people began looking for his early albums, his album was rereleased as “Space Oddity” to avoid confusion.

The Man Who Sold The World (1970) — Bowie discovers rock and roll. He wants to be T.Rex on this record but doesn’t achieve it. The title track is still great.

Hunky Dory (1971) — And here comes Bowie. The first great album. Listening to these albums chronologically, “Hunky Dory” really sounds like an acoustic-based singer-songwriter album, which is ultimately is. “A Song for Bob Dylan” also makes more sense in this context.

The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars (1972) — My introduction to Bowie and still his best album. It’s a perfect album. It’s smart and brooding. It’s loud and fun. It’s a concept album that manages to stay really tune-focused.

Aladdin Sane (1973) — A pretty fun record compared to what’s before it. I never gave “Time” enough credit. Why isn’t “Watch That Man” one of the best known Bowie songs? It’s everything that people love about glam-era Bowie.

Pinups (1973) — The covers album. It’s strange for a hugely successful — critically and commercial — artist to do a covers album during a creative hot streak. Can’t tell if it’s lazy or self-indulgent. The Who covers are the best (“I Can’t Explain”) and worst (“Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere”) things on the album.

Diamond Dogs (1974)– The final glam album. He sounds older — like he’s ready for something new. Much better than I’d remembered. The build and cut from “Sweet Thing” to “Rebel Rebel” might be the most exhilarating moment in Bowie’s entire catalog yet.

Young Americans (1975) — A big departure and the first real experiment. It’s a Philadelphia soul record with a bunch of soul musicians and singers (including Luther Vandross). As soon as it’s over, I want to listen again. It’s also a clear turn toward a more groove and beat-based sound that he’ll rely on a lot during the next few years.

Station to Station (1976) — COCAINE! The opening title track is 10-minutes long. It’s his first real move toward electronic rhythms and synthesizers. It’s good, but it’s a transitional album, which leads us directly to …

Low (1977) — The beginning of the Berlin Trilogy. It’s a critical darling for good reason. After years of making “tunes”, he’s moved toward making sounds and leaning on the avant garde. Quite a departure from the English folk singer. “A New Career in a New Town” was and continues to be my favorite track from “Low”.

Heroes (1977) — More of “Low” but possibly better. The first half is conventional songs. The back half is ambient instrumentals. It also contains possibly Bowie’s greatest song. You can guess which songs I’m referring to.

Lodger (1979) — The last and least known of the Berlin Trilogy. Honestly, I wasn’t very familiar with it. I really enjoyed it but didn’t remember much as soon as it was over. After listening to 13 Bowie albums, this was really unmemorable.

Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps) (1980) — Here come the 80s. The perfect album to bridge the gap of Berlin with the pop that’s yet to come. One of my favorite Bowie eras. “Because You’re Young” is incredibly underrated.

Let’s Dance (1983) — I’m glad that this album’s reputation has been restored in recent years, because it’s a ton of fun. It’s dumb and poppy and lightweight, but it’s purposefully all of those things. It’s the antithesis of “Low”, but it’s still fun. If you don’t like “Modern Love”, you’re a real drip.

Tonight (1984) — This was a chore to listen to. Other than the dumb fun of “Blue Jean”, this is dreadful. Poorly trying to recapture “Let’s Dance”.

Never Let Me Down (1987) — The lowest point. Nothing redeeming about it.

Tin Machine (I & II) (1989/1991) — So Bowie started a hard band called Tin Machine, and everyone hates it. Knowing this, I never really paid attention. Other than terrible late-‘80s screaming guitar solos, it’s fairly listenable. Only deserves some of its terrible reputation.

Buddha of Suburbia (1993) — It’s actually a soundtrack, not a conventional album. After several bad albums in a row, I was really surprised by this. It’s widely accepted as being terrible, but I thought interesting. Not great but better than expected.

Black Tie White Noise (1993) — In a catalog of strange, unexpected moments, the duet with Al B. Sure is the strangest. That’s the only thing I remember about this album, and I just listened to it.

1. Outside (1995) — A 74-minute concept album about fearing the end of the century. This could have been a really good 35-minute album, but it isn’t. The concept didn’t age well, but I remember and miss the navel-gazing, existential end-of-the-millennium fears of the ‘90s.

Earthling (1997) — The electronica album. My terrible high school rock band covered “Little Wonder”. I’m the person who likes this album. The only person. “I’m Afraid of Americans” really stands out as his best song since 1983.

Hours (1999) — Bowie just phoned in this one. It isn’t bad, because it isn’t anything.

Heathen (2002) — I’m shocked by how much I like this. It’s exactly what you want from an aging artist. It’s aggressive and simply filled with good songs. Like most people, I’d overlooked this one, but it’s the first post-“Let’s Dance” that I plan to revisit. This is my great discovery in this musical listening experiment.

Reality (2003) — Similar to “Heathen” but not as dark. The last track, “Bring Me the Disco King” is a highlight. Bowie loved covering songs, but it rarely worked for him. Fittingly, the final cover of this career — only on the extended version of “Reality” — is Bowie covering Bowie with a re-recording of “Rebel Rebel”.

The Next Day (2013) — The beginning of the end. After nearly 10 years of silence, Bowie returns with his best album in 30 years. (Yes, probably better than “Heathen”.) It manages to feel very modern and energetic while being about an old man evaluating old age.

Blackstar (2016) — The final gift. He made music for 50 years, and he was able to end with something this beautiful, relevant and badass. David Bowie’s music rarely gives a glimpse into who David Jones was. His lyrics were more abstract than autobiographical. “Blackstar” might give the best look behind the curtain. However, as I understand it, many of these songs were written before he was diagnosed with cancer, so looking too deeply into things might be misguided. As the final minutes of “I Can’t Give Everything Away” wound down, I was overwhelmed with gratitude and sadness. There will be no new chapters in the story of David Bowie, but it’s a story that can be revisited any time we want.

Final Analysis

• Most Essential: If forced to pick, “The Rise & Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars”. There are at least five correct answers to this question.
• Least Essential: “Hours”. I prefer the aggressive terribleness of “Never Let Me Down” to the boring nothingness of “Hours”. Actually, I prefer neither.
• Overlooked Gem (Album): “Heathen”
• Overlooked Gem (Song): “Teenage Wildlife”
• Best Moment: The buildup from “Sweet Thing — Reprise” into the iconic opening riff of “Rebel Rebel” on “Diamond Dogs”