A-Side Glance

Entry #27 – Low (a.k.a Ich bin ein Bowie-er)

I had promised myself that I would go at least a couple more entries before I talked about David Bowie again but then I listened to Low.

It’s a depressing fact that when an artist is going through a troubled period, nine times out of ten any material they release during that period, as well as immediately after if that material dwells on those troubles, is going to be an absolute corker. That’s been the case so far on this blog with Kid A and This is Hardcore for example. And unfortunately it was definitely the case with the inimitable Bowie. The mid-1970s saw him at his personal lowest ebb as he lost himself in a horrific cocaine addiction. His thing for alter-egos came back to bite him as he fell far too deeply into character as the Thin White Duke and the occult and fascism that came with it, and he completely lost all memory of recording Station to Station. He was on the verge of a mental breakdown and needed to bounce back pronto.

Thus he landed himself in Europe and began recording new material in an effort to detox himself, taking cues from songs he had helped compose with Iggy Pop for his solo debut The Idiot. Put simply it wasn’t the easiest of experiences for Bowie; kicking the habit isn’t something you do on a whim, his marriage was failing, and while recording at a Swiss chateau he and his crew ended up dealing with the shits at one point. Thus, we get an album built on pain and suffering but trying its damndest to see the light wherever it may be shining through.

So what first attracted me to Low specifically? Well as I said in my last entry I’ve been looking into kosmiche music as of late by the likes of Kraftwerk and Tangerine Dream. And while I said that Bowie started flirting with it in Station to Station, Low was really where it started to influence him. Therefore, considering the sessions would culminate with him moving to Berlin, making this is the first entry into his infamous Berlin Trilogy, I felt that I had to give this a shot. And I’m glad I did.

Track #1 – Speed of Life

To me this is the sound of a grand entrance on the verge of calamity. Like when an entertainer goes on stage just shy of being too pissed to perform. Right away we hear the German influences with the repetitive notes and melody, all sounding like it’s been very neatly looped together. And of course there is that unique drumbeat achieved by producer Tony Visconti, in his own words, “[f*cking] with the fabric of space and time” with his new toy, the Eventide H910 Harmoniser. Thus we get that infamous cold and machine like beat. All in all a very unwelcoming sound that tries to be welcome. You’re glad to be here for some more Bowie but you’re not sure if you feel comfortable being here. Seriously, that noise that sounds like a 1960’s Cyberman crying gives me chills.

Track #2 – Breaking Glass

Speaking of Bowie, he makes his first appearance here with a song that is short and snappy, giving the impression that it was drawn up as an instrumental with the lyrics added in later on. I’m guessing the lyrics ‘Don’t look at the carpet/I drew something awful on it’ is a reference to DukeBowie’s occult fascination. Breaking Glass doesn’t last long enough to be contemplated which I guess is kind of the point. Bowie is throwing his problems into the fire and letting them burn before they can resonate any further.

Track #3 – What in the World

A hangover from The Idiot. In fact, Iggy Pop is on this song somewhere. It’s the most normal sounding we’ve heard so far, with the avant-garde bloops and bleeps somehow managing to meld nicely with Ricky Gardiner’s guitar riffs. I think the Harmoniser-influenced drumbeats are what fuses them together.

Track #4 – Sound and Vision

This song has been etched into my head since I first heard it. It’s so damn catchy. Once again, we have another song that feels like it was tune first, lyrics later, hence we get none of the latter until we’re about a minute in. It’s also where the overarching melancholy of Low truly kicks in; it feels like the tune for a person trying to start fresh but still has that shadow looming over them. The lyrics add to that melancholy, described by Bowie as him locking himself away from the world as he tried to deal with his problems and try to get sound and vision to mean something again. Special mention aswell to Mary Hopkin, then-wife of Tony Visconti, and her doo-doo-doo-doo’s. One of the most unnecessary and yet welcome things I’ve heard on a song. Like adding an extra chocolate chip into a cookie.

Track #5 – Always Crashing in the Same Car

Bit of history behind this one. While thematically it’s about making the same mistake over and over again (Which is unfortunately relatable), it also goes back to Bowie’s LA days when he apparently rammed his car into another belonging to a drug dealer who he believed had ripped him off. Not one of my personal favourites but I like the recurring melancholic overtones and the narrator’s deadpan reflection to Jasmine (a.k.a Iggy Pop).

Track #6 – Be My Wife

More of the after effects of Bowie’s time in LA spill into the music as he alludes to his ongoing issues with then-wife Angela. Be My Wife is much more conventional than what we have heard up to this point and could be easily mistaken for a pop song dropped into a bath of art rock. The piano notes are a particular highlight here, sounding almost as machine-like and cold as the signature Low drumbeat. It’s here you really start to notice how Bowie actually lacks prominence on this album, and that the real artist behind Low is the music itself; that drumbeat is the true frontman. This will become even more apparent as we approach the second half of the album.

Track #7 – A New Career in a New Town

On the nose title referencing Bowie’s hunt for a change of pace in a rather alien environment. Simply put, this is an eerie transition piece that evokes a sun setting on the first half of the album and the moon rising over the second. As if you’re going for a night out in this new town, and all the joys and anxieties that go with it. Also, love me a bit of the ol’ harmonica.

Track #8 – Warsawza

Settle in, folks, for now the word of the day is ‘ambience’. Bowie went to Warsaw and wanted to capture its desolation with music. Having next to no lyrics is a good start. It blends beauty and spookiness with strings and synths to take you on this journey. I’ve been playing a lot of Fallout: New Vegas lately and I think this track would perfectly suit a walk through the post-apocalyptic wastelands. Any and all beauty has all but faded away, but there’s still that little bit bleeding through and leaving that one speck of hope for the future. As I say the lyrics here are limited and it’s here where Low’s selling point is established; Bowie is not the singer or the frontman or anything like that. Instead, he’s just another instrument, part of the music rather than adding to it.

Track #9 – Art Decade

The opening notes remind me of Kid A. Something tells me that without Low, that album, and indeed the genre of post-rock, would not be a thing. The intent was very much to make this a melancholic piece, reflecting on the decaying nature of West Berlin. However, there’s something more ominous about it for me frankly. I guess you could spin it round towards the fact that the decay of anything is rather frightening.

Track #10 – Weeping Wall

Scarborough Fair for the Berliner. The steady beats evoke the shadow of the Berlin Wall hanging over the city as it is all that separates one world and the next, and all the unwanteds that come from it. Seconds ticking by, dread remaining evermore thanks to the Cold War.

Track #11 – Subterraneans

The kosmiche music tribute concludes with Subterraneans, a song originally intended for a soundtrack album for Bowie’s Hollywood debut, The Man Who Fell to Earth (Which I really, really need to watch one day). While I have been flirting more with the emotions of fear and dread rather than melancholy as intended by Low, this song is a chopped onion on tape. This symbolises the sadness and the regret felt by those trapped on the east side of the Wall, separated from their old lives. The saxophones and Bowie’s distant vocals evoke a sense of remembering those days, and how much better they were. Nostalgia in the cruellest and most depressing form.

Conclusion:

To be honest, I initially considered doing this review by condensing the whole album instead of talking about each track one by one like I usually do. But I’m glad I didn’t because listening back to this album again since I first listened to it one night in April, I didn’t quite realise nor appreciate just how sad it is. This is honestly the most tearjerked I have felt since starting this blog. The melancholy really hits you on Low and drives home the point that this was the work of a man trying desperately to right himself lest he lose himself forever. While Kid A and This is Hardcore were reactions to how fame had brought Britpop-era bands to their low points, Low is a reaction to how Bowie’s own choices took him so far down. And that is much, much more effective.

It’s also a very Bowie way of doing things that instead of him singing about his troubles he lets the music speak for him instead. The first half sets up what’s going wrong in his life and the pain he is feeling, and the second half, chock-full of instrumentals, details the desolate prison he has exiled himself to for the time being. As well as that, we hear the shared expressed by the people he is living among. He can’t speak for them, he doesn’t have their voice, and it’s not like he can assume another character to pretend to be one of them lest he slip back into old habits. Thus, he lets the music do it for him. It’s a real testament to his backing musicians and Tony Visconti’s production.

Earthling was pretty good, don’t get me wrong. But Low? Low blows it out of the water. A damned fine piece of art rock, a damned fine piece of music.

Entry #26 – What I’ve Been Listening to Lately (a.k.a Oh yeah. I have a blog, don’t I?)

Hello again. Sorry I haven’t been posting much in the way of content lately. Basically April has been a curious blend of being busy and living life as close to normal as possible. The pubs are open once again and I’ve been back out with my mates twice having a good time, minus freezing our arses off on Tuesday in the post-heatwave chill (Couldn’t feel my toes afterwards. Still, worth it). I’m finally off furlough and trying to get some money back in my account. I’ve taken up walking lately aswell, going into town and back or along the seafront, getting a few miles in most days. What else, what else? Oh yeah, listening to music.

It’s been more or less the same old, same old for me as of late but that’s not to say I have completely restricted myself to my usual hunting grounds of Britpop, Madchester and what have you. I’ve been trying to have more of an open mind as of late and ever since I listened to Kid A I’ve had a bit of an interest, like Thom, in drifting away from rock and into the avant-garde. I’ve been going through bits and bobs of David Bowie’s stuff ever since I listened to Earthling and have begun to appreciate how he flirted with various genres across his career – Jungle drum and bass with Earthling, creepings of jazz in Blackstar and elements of kosmische music in Station to Station. The last one in particular caught my attention; I’ve heard things about Germany’s minimalist electronica, and wanted to give it a shot and see what I thought of it. Tried a bit of Tangerine Orange and Alpha Centauri was a good shout. But of course, if I was going to listen to that style of music then there was one song that I just had to listen to:

Kraftwerk – Autobahn

I wouldn’t quite say I like this song yet but it is growing on me. Obviously, it’s not conventional nor is it really something that I would normally listen to. But it is the front door to kosmiche music (Although from what I’ve read, Kraftwerk did pretty much grow out of the genre and become their own thing), with its minimalist bloops and bleeps melded together to create a song meant to personify the travel, traffic and general monotony on the autobahn. Maybe once I’ve finally learnt to drive and I end up going for a lengthy drive on the motorway I’ll like it more but for now I’ll appreciate it for what it is; a cool piece of music.

And while I’m at it, here’s a quick question: Ever heard of the term ‘mondegreen’? If not, it’s when you hear a song’s lyrics as something entirely different. For example, I once thought that the opening lyrics to D’You Know What I Mean? were ‘Step off the train on an unlit dawn’ (Eat your heart out, Noel), and I’ve seen another person online say they once thought the line Damon was saying over and over at the end of Beetlebum was ‘Piss on me’. It’s a weird thing, mondegreen. Anyway, like many first time listeners, I fell into the trap of thinking the lyrics to Autobahn were ‘Fun, fun, fun on the autobahn’. I was wrong, of course. And I felt like an idiot afterwards.

Frank Zappa – Peaches en Regalia

Keeping the instrumental theme going is this tune from the man who once said that nights are the best time to work for that is when the bullshit rests. Peaches en Regalia is a particular favourite of mine and has been ever since I had to talk about it for my first task in music at secondary school in Year 7. It’s got a very lush and ‘fruity’ sound to it and is one that helps cheer me up when I’m in a sour mood. Really need to listen to Hot Rats at some point…

Graham Coxon – Hard and Slow

While I love everything that Graham has done for Blur, his efforts on their self-titled album is some of his absolute finest work. Still trying to process the motor-guitar sound from Essex Dogs. But with a song like You’re So Great, as well as Coffee & TV, I knew that I had to check out his solo stuff at some point. Thus, I’ve been listening to his debut album from 1998, sandwiched between Blur and 13, titled The Sky Is Too High.

Delightfully minimalist, Hard and Slow has been a particular highlight with its intimacy similar to You’re So Great, with a fast tempo that perhaps signifies that time is going by too fast for the narrator to fully appreciate this tender moment he is sharing with a special someone. Obviously, this song doesn’t have the same flourish that Stephen Street and William Orbit would give Blur’s songs, but it’s refreshing to hear something with minimal productional polish. Adds to the intimacy.

Paul Weller – Wild Wood

One of the reviews I’ve had on the backburner for the blog has been Wild Wood, Paul Weller’s sophomore effort from 1993. It’s been about halfway done for a while now and I aim to have it out for you one day but for now I’d just like to talk about the title track which I just listened to for the first time in a while.

It’s perfect.

As a feel good song it is one of the best; quiet, elegant, reassuring and relaxing. A mostly delicate and counselling performance from Paul makes it the standout track on the album for me. Not much to say about it to be honest, I just wanted to gush about it real quick and save the full thoughts on for the review itself when I finally finish it.

So for now I’ll instead give mention to a version of the song that I just discovered the other day; the Portishead remix, titled Sheared Wood. See, trip hop is another genre that I have been having a fleeting glance at, particularly from the likes of Gorillaz, Massive Attack and, of course, Portishead, with their debut album Dummy. I’m not sure why I like it, or indeed if I do like it and may just instead be talking about it because it’s weird and new to me. But it is a fascinating mesh of the two styles, with Portishead’s keyboards, drums and electric guitars replacing the calm optimism of the original with an air of tension and caution. Cautious optimism, perfect for today. I guess you could call this a ‘night’ version of the song, when you’re on the train back home in the dead of night and the hustle and bustle are the drunks and the chavs. Could act as a nice transition into Down in the Tube Station at Midnight.

Entry #25 – Blur (a.k.a Fame’s a Bitch part 2.5)

Not too long ago I finished reading the Blur biography 3862 Days, written up by Stuart Maconie at the time of the release of 13 in the dying months of the 20^th century. Most Blur fans already know the cliffnotes of the band’s 90s output but this book really fills in the gaps and expands on the bits and pieces you can find on Wikipedia. It provides the thoughts and feelings of the band and the crew on the main events of the decade; the annus horribilis of 1992, the ever growing wedge between the band and Dave Balfe, the megastorm of Parklife and of course that oh so oversaturated piece of history the Battle of Britpop.

But what caught my intrigue the most was the aftermath of the release of The Great Escape and then WTSMG. We all know that with the release of the latter album the tide turned and Blur suddenly went from the dog’s bollocks to just plain bollocks. The cartoony Britpop sound exemplified by Country House didn’t sit well with the masses who were by now high on Wonderwall, Don’t Look Back in Anger and Champagne Supernova. Since learning about the tide change a while back, I also noticed that it nearly led to a split in the band which baffled me. I mean, ok, public perception of you just took a sharp turn and that can damage morale and all but you can bounce back right? Well it wasn’t quite as simple as that according to the book.

The combination of Graham Coxon and the life of a popstar with screaming teenagers drowning out the music had gone together about as well as a dictator and a dignified exit. Simply put he wasn’t enjoying the music nor the lifestyle, feeling that being in Blur had become a job that he disliked. Obviously this put him at loggerheads with his bandmates, in particular Alex James who was the antithesis of Graham and loving every second of it and the bottles of bubbly it brought. Consequently there was a split down the middle and that was where Blur very nearly died.

However, Damon was beginning to share the cynicism of the Britpop sound with Graham after The Great Escape’s fall from grace and took onboard his mate’s wishes to make music that scared people again. The result was a grittier, lo-fi effort taking influence from American bands such as Pavement and doing away with the bombastic brass and strings. And for me, it’s where it all began.

This is Blur.

Track #1 – Beetlebum

The first song I ever talked about on A-Side Glance and my thoughts on it haven’t changed since then so I’ll just say it’s an excellent opening track, definitely Blur’s best, one which will always be in at least my top five of their entire catalogue and move on.

Track #2 – Song 2

The most happy accident of them all. Blur jokingly pitched this as the second single of the album, the label ran with it and next thing you know it’s on practically every trailer for every piece of media in 1997-98. Oh and it became Blur’s biggest hit in America by a country mile. Irony is no finer than when a band who at one point acted out against grunge made a grunge parody and found themselves in the upper echelons of Billboard as a result. Delish. Anyway, yes this song is completely overplayed and is nowhere near as good as people might say but it’s short and sweet and I have gone on record as saying Alex’s bassline is fantastic so there that is.

Track #3 – Country Sad Ballad Man

This is where the lo-fi really kicks in, with a hazy little number. It’s uneven but in a good way, with Graham getting a chance to flourish as the song approaches its end. I think it might be one designed to lull you into a false sense of security; hence the title, it is a ballad until it approaches the climax and then it turns into one glorious mess of noisy music. A late-entry tone setter for Blur.

Track #4 – M.O.R

Arguably the most commercial and standard piece of alt-rock to be found on Blur. Aptly it is rather middle of the road considering the rest of the album’s playlist but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. In fact it’s one song that I find myself listening to a fair bit, it’s a good song to rock out and have a bit of a head bop to.

Track #5 – On Your Own

Gorillaz track zero. This is where Damon unwittingly begins transforming into 2D and we see the band experiment with a drum machine and synths. Again, fine and good for a fleeting listen but nothing to write home about.

Track #6 – Theme from Retro

Ooh I like this. After being more down to Earth for the last couple of songs we take a trip into space with this song, one of mystique and unease. Those organ sounds definitely do their damndest to make your neck hairs stand on end. It’s a bit of a left turn but after the last two tracks it’s a welcome change of pace and acts as a decent bridge into the next portion of the album.

Track #7 – You’re so Great

Graham Coxon should have done more Blur songs. This and Coffee & TV are two of my favourite songs from the band’s post-Britpop era and some days I actually find myself preferring this to his later effort. This is such a wonderfully intimate song, balancing the woes of alcoholism and love. I must admit though I am on the fence with the distortion of the overall sound which keeps the song in line with the lo-fi tone of the album. On the one hand I feel it’s a little unnecessary and takes away from the beauty of the song. Then again, maybe it suits the shy and retiring Graham to a tee, hiding behind whatever he can whilst pouring his heart out. After all, he did record this under a table in the dark, according to Maconie’s book. Regardless, this is my third favourite track, definitely a worthy winner of the bronze medal.

Track #8 – Death of a Party

Silver medal however goes to this song, one which was written during the Modern Life is Rubbish days and is based off the AIDS epidemic. Two words: Hammond organ. This song is deliciously spooky and I am all here for it.

Track #9 – Chinese Bombs

A runtime of 1:25? This is going to be this album’s Bank Holiday. This was one of the two songs first played live from Blur and I would have gladly paid to see everyone’s reaction to this. Blur’s fast songs have always felt punky but adding the distortion brings up a notch. Could have easily had this on a Tony Hawk game. Like Theme From Retro, a decent bridge into the final third of Blur.

Track #10 – I’m Just a Killer for Your Love

Hmm…I’m mixed on this one. I’ll get the cons out of the way first by saying that I’m not a massive fan of Damon’s singing style on this one. It suits the song, sure, but it just sounds a bit too American for my liking. In fact I was wondering if that even was him singing at first. Then there’s what he was singing. You’d have an easier time trying to work out what Duran Duran are singing about in A View to a Kill. However, the outweighing pro here is once again the music. Graham is on form as always; you can tell he’s having a much better time than in the Britpop days, being able to twist the noise of his guitar strings, and Dave especially commands the track with a solid drumbeat. Very raw sounding, like a one take wonder straight from the studio to the disc.

Track #11 – Look Inside America

Don’t like this one. Weakest track on the album in my opinion. While it’s based off the lads touring in the US which could make for a tasty bit of writing, honestly it’s much more interesting reading about the real deal then listening to this.

Track #12 – Strange News from Another Star

Most pleasant surprise on the album since Theme from Retro. I don’t know, I guess I’m a sucker for the more ‘spacy’ songs on Blur. But yeah, Strange News for my money has the best intro since Beetlebum and has a nice David Bowie vibe running through it. While the song manages to remain calm for the most part the little harsh beats behind the acoustic guitar gives the impression of a star threatening to go supernova. This song so easily could have just flipped and gone all out in the final minute but we get a drumbeat that makes it sound like it’s marching toward its end like a good soldier. Life goes marching on. Only complaint I have is that I wish there was one more verse frankly. I genuinely really like this track, and I think Graham is going to have share that bronze medal now.

Track #13 – Movin’ On

I feel like this is a precursor to Bugman from the next album, they both sound incredibly similar. Except this is at a much more reasonable volume (Apologies for the tangent, but f*ck Bugman, that song scared the living shit out of me when I was five). Anyway, after the slower songs we’ve had for the past 12 minutes, this is a nice way to get the blood pumping again. I think it should have kept going until the final note instead of fading out but never mind.

Track #14 – Essex Dogs

Oh, Essex Dogs. I heard things about you. How in the hell did Graham produce that noise?! He made that guitar sound like an engine motor, droning on and off and on in waves and growling louder than a Subaru Impreza rally car. If he wanted to create music that scared people on Blur, mission accomplished. Here he has created a monster, one that creeps up on you and roars in your face over and over again. This is the most pants-shitting Blur have ever gotten (Well, until bloody Bugman that is. Sorry I’ll shut up about that now). And Damon. I disliked his different style of vocals on Killer for Your Love. Here he’s changed things up again and it is excellent; spoken verse, once again leaning into the Bowie influence and making him sound almost like Jarvis. This song more than any emphasises how much more personal his songwriting has been on this album, as he waxes lyrical about how much of a shithole his home of Colchester is. What a way to end.

Conclusion

Blur is a mixed bag but I’m happy to say it’s one with way more ups than downs. While the lo-fi-influenced sound isn’t always my cup of tea, it does provide a welcome change of pace from Blur’s Britpop trilogy and allows the band to go off in different directions and flex their creative muscles. In keeping with the Bowie influences heard across the album, they have that mantra in their heads of making music for themselves rather than their audience and it delivers in spades in most parts.

Not an easy listen by any stretch of the imagination and one that I’m willing to bet would be thought of by less die hard fans as an album that they respect more than they like (As I felt with Pulp’s This is Hardcore). But this was the start of Blur’s experimental phase that would continue for the second half of their careers and would be improved upon with 13 and, dare I say it, parts of Think Tank. They’d had their day in the commercial sun, they had been cast into the shadows and now they were making music that would keep themselves going and they were damn well going to make themselves heard. Even if lo-fi ain’t your cup of tea either, you are going to be pleasantly surprised by songs like Strange News from Another Star, You’re So Great and Essex Dogs. Just be prepared for a couple of dips in quality because like I say it is a mixed bag; not everything is impressive. Even the worst tracks are passable though so give Blur a shot if you haven’t already and see what you think.

Entry #24 – Sampling Soundtracks IV: Spider-Man on the PS1 (a.k.a Ollie, go to bed)

The RetroBeat: Remembering 2000's big Spider-Man game | VentureBeat

Spider-Man 2: Enter: Electro Box Shot for PlayStation - GameFAQs

I seem to have developed a thing as of late where as I’m starting to feel like I should wind down and turn in for the night my brain decides to try everything it can to stop me from doing so. The other night it was by reminding me of a fanmade version of the Doctor Who theme in the style of Jean Michel Jarre, and last night it was making me admire just how damn good those basslines are for the soundtrack to Spider-Man for the Playstation 1, better known as Spider-Man 2000.

Yup, it’s another game that I played when I was a wee lad and still occasionally play today as a wee adult. Released on the eve of the Tobey Maguire films, the two Spider-Man games released for the Playstation 1 were two of the very first games I had for that particular console and as a result they are the first thing I think of when I think of Spider-Man. Which also means that my favourite version of Spidey isn’t Maguire or Andrew Garfield or Tom Holland, it’s Rino Romano. And whenever I decide to pick up a Spidey comic I typically end up apply the voices from these games to the various characters (I’ll take Daran Norris over Tom Hardy anyday) and may very well have the soundtrack to Spidey 2000 and Enter Electro bouncing around in my head whilst reading.

Simply put, while a lot of these bits of music that I’m going to showcase here are pretty much the same few seconds of track on a loop, each one is definitive of the level they represent. And for the record, yes, I am including Enter Electro aswell because even though it is the weaker of the two soundtracks, I have rose-tinted spectacles and tend to put both OSTs on the same level as a result.

Let’s have a quick look, starting in the year 2000.

Spider-Man 2000 theme

I didn’t realise until writing this that the main theme song for the first game, a remix of the one used for the 1960’s cartoon, was done by Apollo 440. Not a fan of the band overall but Stop the Rock was one of my favourite songs growing up (Thanks, FIFA 2000) so I guess this is extra reason to appreciate the turn-of-the-millennium style tune that greets you upon booting up the game.

Stop the Bomb

A bit of sneaky-sneak and dropping from the ceiling to punch goons’ lights out, represented by slithery bassline and a smug guitar riff respectively.

Special mention as well to a recently rediscovered ‘extended’ version from the game’s beta stage that has a bridge that I think creates a nice bit of build up to Spidey emerging from the shadows to save the day.

Police Chopper Chase

Most of the soundtrack to Spider-Man 2000 is sadly compressed owing to the smaller storage spaces in games at the time. Thankfully though, Police Chopper Chase is not one of them, which means we can appreciate its guitar riffs in all their heart racing glory. Bonus points if you’ve got What If mode on and the helicopter pilot starts humming Flight of the Valkyries.

Hidden Switches

When I was younger I spent most of my time playing this game on Kid Mode, an easier than easy difficulty. How easy? Well on the Hidden Switches level, normally you would have to go around, activate switches and open a gate. On Kid Mode, it’s all done and ready. You can literally walk through the level in five seconds flat. Doesn’t really give you enough time to appreciate this more grungey piece that compliments the endless amount of Lizardmen coming your way.

Symbiotes Infest Bugle

The most electronic, and I’d argue most unnerving, track in Tommy Tallarico’s arsenal from the original game that I’ll talk about here, this one gives the sense you are really alone and the stakes are kind of against you as you do battle with symbiotes that have taken over your own work place.

Elevator Descent

The one that caused me to really admire the basslines in this game last night. I mean, listen to that thing, it’s tremendous!

Spider-Man vs Mysterio

I’m currently watching the MCU films for the first time with my Dad right now, and we’re nearly at the end of Phase One. If I get to Far From Home and discover that this track hasn’t somehow found its way into the soundtrack when Spidey encounters Mysterio, I will be immeasurably disappointed.

Carnage + Monster Ock

Bumping two tracks together here. The first, for the battle against Carnage, sums up the character perfectly; insanity and bloodthirst rolled into one mesh of symbiote. Then there’s the second, for when the symbiote melds with Doc Ock (Yes that actually happened, and it scarred many a child, myself included). The insanity of Cletus Kassidy is still there, but the bloodthirst? Oh dear lord, the bloodthirst, that right there is one pissed off symbiote. It doesn’t help that you can’t even fight Monster Ock; if he catches you, you’re stuffed. All you can do is run, and this track ain’t gonna help your heartrate. Damn your guitars, Tallarico.

That’s about it for the first game and its industrial metal-inspired soundtrack, time now to move on to the second game which focuses more exclusively on electronica. Some call it a step down, and I can see why, but I think of it as more of a natural progression. After all, 2000 already churned a lot of the a-tier villains and the b-tier ones found here in Enter Electro aren’t exactly worthy of tracks such as Mysterio’s theme. Regardless though, there’s still a lot to like here, such as…

Enter the Webhead/Vs. Sandman

First level, first track and it’s not one that makes you feel easy about proceedings thanks to the inclusion of a choir and a guitar riff that, while not quite as punchy as those found in the first game, is still relatively effective. Definitely worthy of being reused later on during the encounter against Sandman.

Spidey Vs. Shocker

From what I’ve seen Shocker seems to be considered something of a joke by the Spidey fandom. Well 5 year old me would never have guessed that if this is what they give us for his fight music, easily the best track in the game. This feels like it should be used at the end for fighting Electro, or maybe even Mysterio back in the first game, not Herman bloody Schultz. That electronic whisper-chant is just too good for him.

In Darkest Night + Heart of Darkness

Again, lumping two together seeing as they exist in the same location of the trainyard. Very much gives the sense of stealth and that you’re alone on dangerous territory.

Spidey Vs. Lizard

They really did well with the boss fight music in this game (Apart from the very last one), like Monster Ock before you know that if you don’t act fast and efficiently you’re going to get torn to pieces. The Lizard’s constant roaring doesn’t help.

Rock of Ages

The long climb that remains as only the final obstacle in your long awaited showdown with Electro. You know by this point you’re within a gnat’s hair of getting to the end of the game and you just need to keep going. Then a cascade of electricity comes down and sends you plummeting back down to the bottom. F*ck’s sakes.

Spidey Vs. Electro

By this point Electro has almost everything he needs to become a god, so to reflect that we have a track that very nicely conveys both the fact he is drunk with power as well as the stakes if Spidey were to fall now. I just wish that instead of recycling an infinitely less intense piece of music from earlier in the game (Smoke Screen), we had got a remixed version of this as the final battle took place atop the (not)World Trade Centre.

Entry #23 – Earthling (a.k.a Onomatopoeic music)

David Bowie Earthling 12" Album Cover Framed Print, Wood, Multi-Colour, 32 x 32 x 1.5 cm: Amazon.co.uk: Kitchen & Home

Story goes I was bored during lockdown. I know, shocking. I needed something new to listen to in order to pass the time. After careful thinking I decided to step away from my usual hunting grounds of good ol’ fashioned Britpop and try out some David Bowie. But then I was confronted with the one question you must ask yourself when you are diving into a discography as rich and expansive as his: Where do you start? The man released nearly 30 studio albums for crying out loud, you could jump out of a helicopter into a collection of his records and be softly cushioned by the pile. In the end I had to resort to asking a crowd of people in a Discord server I’m part of where to go, specifying that I wanted to go for one of the lesser appreciated or disregarded efforts; frankly there isn’t much point in writing about Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane or Hunky Dory, that’s all been done to death and I’d more than likely just end up gushing over them. Eventually the choices came down to Scary Monsters, Earthling and Hours. In the end I settled on Earthling which from what I’ve gathered is one of the more experimental albums in Bowie’s catalogue. Interesting times ahead.

Track #1 – Little Wonder

Well. That was a wake up call. Upon starting we are greeted by a very 90s drum and bass cum Prodigy sound that uncomfortably melds with the classic Bowie voice and piano. When I actually heard that drum sample for the first time I thought I was listening to a remixed version of the theme from Never Mind the Buzzcocks. Not entirely what I was expecting. It’s a bit of a mess if I’m being honest, with the drum loops and the shrieky guitars and…train noises? I do like the left turn it seems to take around four minutes in with Bowie repeating ‘So far away’ but apart from that, not a fan. Music video is a fascinating piece of work though.

Track #2 – Looking for Satellites

Once again, messy. It feels like Bowie and co. produced a bunch of noises and sounds that only barely manage to mesh together to create something resembling a song. It’s very trippy and a good example of post rock but I feel like it’s trying a bit too hard. Having said that though, I do love that guitar riff.

Track #3 – Battle For Britain (The Letter)

I feel like this is the first song on this album where Bowie himself really resonates, the previous two having been dominated by the music. I guess that means either I’m getting used to the sound of Earthling or this is a better song. Probably both. It still has yet to get me in the mood though, there’s something about this album that just isn’t connecting with me. Perhaps I’m just not a big fan of the spikier drum and bass genre, or maybe this album so far just feels like David Bowie having a ‘How do you do, fellow kids?’ moment. Either way, I’m going along with proceedings but only tentatively.

Track #4 – Seven Years in Tibet

The creeping start with the electronic beat is a refreshing change of pace from how in your face affairs have been so far. Then we get some compressed lyrics followed by another decent guitar riff that makes me wonder if we’re listening to one of the lo-fi efforts of Blur’s self-titled album. However, I like that album and I actually really like this song. It definitely benefits from the slower tempo; the instruments feel less clumped together and have room to express themselves, and there’s an undercurrent of the plastic soul from Young Americans hiding just under the surface. Definitely the highlight of the album so far as we approach the halfway stage.

Track #5 – Dead Man Walking

Disregard that last sentence. This is the highlight of the album so far. I think at this point I have adjusted to the sound of Earthling and am really starting to enjoy myself now. While this is definitely the most 90s sounding song since Little Wonder and seems designed to be a club anthem, it benefits from what is undoubtedly Bowie’s best performance up to this point. Little wonder (Sorry, couldn’t resist) that this got him nominated for a Best Male Performance Grammy. Ok, if the Simpsons have taught me anything it’s that Grammys mean next to nothing but hey, award nominations are award nominations, right? Anyway, yes, love it, and at a 7 and a bit minute runtime it definitely doesn’t outstay its welcome.

Track #6 – Telling Lies

Quite an interesting choice for a lead single. I suppose it was probably the best candidate to give the audience a taste of what was to come, not going too heavy handed into the industrial electronica of Earthling. It’s more enigmatic and evokes curiosity, mostly because of the narrator who Bowie gives a voice too. Looking through those lyrics I’m not sure if it’s God per se but definitely someone who thinks he is. Bond villain maybe? It’s also worth talking about the release of the single, one of the more unique ways of doing things back in 1996. It was done via the Internet along with a Q&A webchat with three David Bowies; one was real, the other two were pretending to be him, and it was up to the participants to guess who was the real deal and who was telling lies. The full transcript is available to read if you’re interested: (http://www.bowiewonderworld.com/chats/dbchat0996.htm)

Track #7 – The Last Thing You Should Do

A very electronic-dominated song that honestly evoked memories of Ridge Racer Type 4 (See here: https://asideglance.com/2020/12/07/entry-13-sampling-soundtracks-i-ridge-racer-type-4-a-k-a-hey-its-a-new-record/). It feels like a song you can race to, and the crescendo in the middle really gets the blood pumping. However, with Bowie repeating the same lines of verse over and over again, you start to pay more attention to the music and realise there is something rather unnerving in its sound. Danger-ish. Combined with the title of the song it indicates something very bad has happened or is happening. A drug trip perhaps? As delightfully eerie as it is though, the end of the song kind of spoils things with how abrupt it is. I’d be fine with it if the very last sound you hear didn’t sound like a fart. The last thing you should do is end with that kind of sound.

Track #8 – I’m Afraid of Americans

As one of the more talked about singles from this album, I was rather looking forward to this song. It’s got a very similar tone to the previous one, albeit leaning towards outright scariness rather than putting you off-ease. The constant repetition of the lines once again combined with the loud noise and messiness that harks back to the beginning creates a feeling of madness from the narrator. That repetition also creates one of the less subtle subject matters found on Earthling; the anti-Americanisation sentiment in the lyrics. It feels very much like a song lifted from the post-World War II era, dropped into the 90s and bathed in industrial rock. And considering recent events, I’d say that this song has aged rather well, which is unfortunate. A little bit of a step down from the last few songs but I’ll put that down to having the bar raised by the aforementioned expectations I had before booting this track up.

Track #9 – Law (Earthlings on Fire)

And so we end with another song that sounds like it was born to be a dancefloor anthem. Not much to say about it honestly, but I’m going to hazard a guess and say that I think this was based of Bowie’s fears from the time of how big the Internet was going to grow. In which case this is the most well-aged track on the album, even moreso than I’m Afraid of Americans. Did David have a crystal ball to hand when he was busy finishing off this album? As the finale this is of course where Earthling’s main influences of the Prodigy and Underworld really come together. Very much the lovechild of those two musical styles. A serviceable end.

Conclusion:

It took a while for Earthling to get going but once it did it won me over. The first third is a bit of a slog but once you reach Seven Years in Tibet you’re set for a half hour of great music. I guess my main takeaway from this is that don’t go in with expectations on this one, especially if those expectations include a ‘classic’ Bowie sound. Otherwise you’re just going to end up shocked and disappointed. Or then again, do. With a bit of patience you can adjust to it like I did.

I do think that this album really fits the post-80s mantra David Bowie had, that he would only be making music for himself rather than the audience after he ‘sold out’ with records like Tonight, Let’s Dance and…the other one, the crap one. Not the most accessible album ever made, rather dated considering drum and bass is a much more niche genre these days, and definitely not quintessential Bowie, but I’d say it’s worth at least a curious peek. If none of the songs on their own are your cup of tea then maybe it would be worth checking out the remixes.

Because good tapdancing Christ, there are a LOT of remixes…