LOW
BY HUGO WILCKEN
CONTINUUM
BY HUGO WILCKEN
CONTINUUM
David Bowie’s album Low, released in 1977, is
an inspired high point for the
singer/actor/musician/icon, yet the record still
fails to generate the attention it deserves.
Hugo Wilcken’s Low (published by Continuum
and part of their 33 1/3 series) will hopefully
put an end to the long neglect.
an inspired high point for the
singer/actor/musician/icon, yet the record still
fails to generate the attention it deserves.
Hugo Wilcken’s Low (published by Continuum
and part of their 33 1/3 series) will hopefully
put an end to the long neglect.
In some circles Low is revered—specifically among in-the-know critics
and musicians—and while Wilcken doesn’t have grand illusions about
bringing the masses up to speed, his book (a smallish paperback, and a
quick read at 138 pages) will captivate Bowie fans and the musically
inquisitive looking for a lost gem from a name artist. Fascinating for rock
historian types who are drawn in to the never-ending debate of who
influenced who, and those that simply want to know the stories behind
the songs. Devotees will be anxious to rediscover a forgotten favorite.
Though there appears to be no first-person interviews, there are plenty
of quotes about the album from Bowie, Brian Eno—who collaborated with
Bowie and provided many of the captivating sounds and effects—as well
as unsung contributors like producer Tony Visconti and co-conspirator
Iggy Pop among others who were present. There’s praise from those
influenced by the retro-futuristic sound of the album, including members
of Joy Division and one of Bowie’s own heroes, Scott Walker.
Wilcken uses these old quotes to his advantage, and ultimately the
reader’s benefit, to set the scene: Bowie had been a huge star for years
now, but fame and excessive drug use (specifically cocaine) had put him
in an extremely unhealthy and paranoid state, and he flirted with black
magic and fascism. Though his move out of L.A. was a big step in the
right direction, it was still years before he would fully recover, and there
is a troubled aspect present in the results (Bowie himself believed the
mansion where part of the recording was done was haunted). But it is
also the sound of someone trying to re-enter the world and is ultimately
more human than one might expect (or remember, if it’s been a while).
Like the LP itself, Hugo Wilcken’s extended essay may be too smart for
some. Though he explains many of the artists and movements Bowie
most likely looked to during the Low sessions, he doesn’t always make
such clarifications, and a further dumbing down for the ignorant would
have been appreciated. Low the album may be arty, but it’s not
exclusive. Having said that, it is still an absorbing and appealing
analysis, thankfully sans the type of mind-numbing prose that often
accompanies this type of scrutiny.
Bowie’s Low is artful, yet open; challenging, but still willfully manageable;
beautiful in spite of the gloom. Though it may not be as accessible as
Ziggy Stardust or possess the pop & circumstance of his breakthrough
Let’s Dance, its affect is still immediate, its influence and brilliance
undeniable. Once Bowie’s long career has concluded Low will surely
stand as his creative apex, and Hugo Wilcken’s book will be its knowing
and worthy companion.
--Bart Bealmear
and musicians—and while Wilcken doesn’t have grand illusions about
bringing the masses up to speed, his book (a smallish paperback, and a
quick read at 138 pages) will captivate Bowie fans and the musically
inquisitive looking for a lost gem from a name artist. Fascinating for rock
historian types who are drawn in to the never-ending debate of who
influenced who, and those that simply want to know the stories behind
the songs. Devotees will be anxious to rediscover a forgotten favorite.
Though there appears to be no first-person interviews, there are plenty
of quotes about the album from Bowie, Brian Eno—who collaborated with
Bowie and provided many of the captivating sounds and effects—as well
as unsung contributors like producer Tony Visconti and co-conspirator
Iggy Pop among others who were present. There’s praise from those
influenced by the retro-futuristic sound of the album, including members
of Joy Division and one of Bowie’s own heroes, Scott Walker.
Wilcken uses these old quotes to his advantage, and ultimately the
reader’s benefit, to set the scene: Bowie had been a huge star for years
now, but fame and excessive drug use (specifically cocaine) had put him
in an extremely unhealthy and paranoid state, and he flirted with black
magic and fascism. Though his move out of L.A. was a big step in the
right direction, it was still years before he would fully recover, and there
is a troubled aspect present in the results (Bowie himself believed the
mansion where part of the recording was done was haunted). But it is
also the sound of someone trying to re-enter the world and is ultimately
more human than one might expect (or remember, if it’s been a while).
Like the LP itself, Hugo Wilcken’s extended essay may be too smart for
some. Though he explains many of the artists and movements Bowie
most likely looked to during the Low sessions, he doesn’t always make
such clarifications, and a further dumbing down for the ignorant would
have been appreciated. Low the album may be arty, but it’s not
exclusive. Having said that, it is still an absorbing and appealing
analysis, thankfully sans the type of mind-numbing prose that often
accompanies this type of scrutiny.
Bowie’s Low is artful, yet open; challenging, but still willfully manageable;
beautiful in spite of the gloom. Though it may not be as accessible as
Ziggy Stardust or possess the pop & circumstance of his breakthrough
Let’s Dance, its affect is still immediate, its influence and brilliance
undeniable. Once Bowie’s long career has concluded Low will surely
stand as his creative apex, and Hugo Wilcken’s book will be its knowing
and worthy companion.
--Bart Bealmear