Reality

by

David Bowie

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2002's "Heathen" was the beacon on the mountain for Bowie fans who hoped the eloquent and moving minimalism of 1999's "Hours" was not just an aberration on the way to another noisily ambitious effort such as "Outside." Yet even for all "Heathen" did to suggest that Bowie had finally swept his Tin Machine under the rug for good, disonant techno freak-outs like "Took A Trip on a Gemini Spaceship" anticipated the tight rope Bowie walks on "Reality," a record so ambitious in production and sound as to be constantly on the verge of explosion. While "Hours" played like a dressed-up stepchild of "Hunky Dory," "Reality" picks up where "Scary Monsters" left off. As on that 80s masterpiece, each song on Reality approaches but never crosses the boundary between melody and mania. The result is a gorgeously successful restraint and maturity; the kind of reservation of his powers that moments of even his most lauded works have lacked. No song on "Reality" illustrates this more aptly than the stunning and ethereal "Days," one of the most moving productions of Bowie's career. Similarly tender and understated compositions like "Fall Dog Bombs The Moon" or the darkly seductive and jazzy "Bring Me The Disco King" balance nicely with noisier and farther-reaching explosions of melody so radiant as to light the world on fire: "New Killer Star" with its subtle nod to the doo-wop hit "I Will Follow Him," his cover of the Modern Lovers' under-ground punk hit "Pablo Picasso," the bright "Looking For Water." By the time the title track finally comes around, Bowie's vocals sound appropriately drained and the sound itself seems closest to driving off the deep end of the album's steel composure. But such meticulous production might have seemed inhuman without at least this one less-structured and overblown track. There simply had to be a pressure valve and the title tracks happens to be it; but there is hardly a song on here whose melodies are not infectious. When songs like these get stuck in your head, you hope they never leave.

The three good songs are "Days", "She'll Drive the Big Car" and "Looking for Water."

The four great songs are "New Killer Star," "Fall Dog Bombs the Moon," "Reality" and "Bring Me the Disco King."

The difference between "good" and "great" is not a whole lot. Social commentary helps, though "NKS" has none and "LFW" has some.

"Fall Dog Bombs the Moon" employs fabulous rhythm guitars and a languid lead to remind us weary soulful types that life without a spiritual dimension is not much of a life. "New Killer Star" has that cocky, metallic edge that made "DJ" from "Lodger" memorable, but it's a better song.

"Reality" hits you broadside like a wave at the beach and you get up looking for your teeth. It hits the high that was missing on "Never Let Me Down."

"Bring Me the Disco King" utilizes an early 70's jazz format similar to the sound on Keith Jarrett's "Belonging." Sparse, heavy piano histrionics build dramatic tension for Bowie's equally heavy lyrics. The lyrics immerse us in fatalistic reveries, but they accumulate like snowflakes on a tree, gradually blanketing us with a need for redemption. They fall suddenly en masse to reveal an enhanced original. And the piano section at the end recalls the sensibilities of Jarrett's "Belonging," one of the great accomplishments of jazz music. (See my William Burrough's take on the song for elaboration. It's under the Dual Disk version of "Reality" and, either way, it's good for a laugh.)

"Disco King" is the ultimate Zen song in that the pieces are most important, the whole being fleeting and empty like the silence that surrounds it. You have to ride this song like a surfer does a wave, one piece of water at a time; otherwise you'll miss the full effect. It's like reading Keroauc in your underwear.