1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die: 253. David Bowie – The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars (1972)

 

There have been surprisingly few albums on this list so far that I’ve owned and listened to relentlessly. This is one of them, and I suspect we’re moving more into the eras of music that I would have done that. Each time so far (e.g. Court of the Crimson King) I’ve approached the album with trepidation – was it my callow musical tastes of youth? Would I still like it?

In this case, the answers are no and yes, respectively, and with any good work of art (be it writing, painting, cinema, music, whatever) you get something different each decade or so of your life that you return to it.

The album is a loose concept album about an androgynous alien that comes to inspire a dying Earth through the medium of rock music, but becomes a victim of his own success and cult status. As you do.

The opening track, Five Years, outlines the scenario that “We’ve got five years left to die in” and, like the track that closes the album, Rock And Roll Suicide, is a steady build up. Beginning with Woody Woodmansay’s simple ticking drumbeat, it gradually adds in orchestral notes until it reaches a crescendo with Bowie rising to throat-burning scream-singing that we haven’t heard since Lennon’s first post-Beatles album.

In Five Years, the narrator meets the girl of his dreams in an ice-cream parlour and takes his chance (“I kiss you, you’re beautiful, I want you to walk”), leading into other tales of love in Soul Love, including a mother grieving for her son who “gave his life to save the slogan”). We can assume that this is one way that the people are coping with their finite lifetime (which, after all, we all have), until Ziggy Stardust appears on the scene with explosive guitar chords announcing “I’m an alligator! I’m a mama-papa coming for you” in Moonage Daydream which ends with Mick Ronson’s simple but absolutely gorgeous guitar solo that soars into space and beyond.

Starman sees the people of Earth (perhaps the narrator of Five Years) talking about this strange visitation, come to save them, and Lady Stardust is another third-party narration of the saviour figure. The rise and fall is told in the track Ziggy Stardust, of how Ziggy becomes obsessed with his own image and falls from grace, eventually becoming a Rock And Roll Suicide shambling out into the road in front of cars and desperately calling out to an (imaginary?) audience for approval.

Along the way are some tracks that are about fame – Star, Hang Onto Yourself, It Ain’t Easy – that could be seen as Ziggy’s performances, as could Suffragette City. The concept came after the songs, and so not all fit together in a fully coherent rock opera, but that, to me, works in its favour.

The character of Ziggy, an alien that comes to Earth but ultimately fails in his mission due to the influences of fame, has to be the inspiration for Nic Roeg’s film The Man Who Fell To Earth, and probably why Bowie was (perfectly) cast. There’s also an odd similarity with Dr Frank N Furter in the Rocky Horror Show (“Your mission is a failure, your lifestyle too extreme”)

With some relief, like meeting old friends and realising that you all still have a lot in common and can get along, it was good to revisit this album. Compared to the (largely Californian) output of 1972 so far, these songs really felt fresh and original, even when borrowing progressions from Fifties rock and roll. I seem to recall that for me, Aladdin Sane has the edge for Ziggy Stardust-era Bowie. I know that’s on this list as well so it’ll be interesting if that opinion still holds.