The Bowie List: David Bowie's albums ranked from worst to best pt. 3
He’s got the moves, he’s got the style and even though he’s not an alien, he’s probably farther from reality than any other Bowie incarnation, and I think that’s incredible.
Let’s jump right into it!
9. Let’s Dance (1983)
Some might think my placement of Let’s Dance is a little bit high, and I understand where that sentiment might come from. Sure, it’s likely Bowie’s most popular album, but does that justify placing it above Hunky Dory!?! No, I wouldn’t ever value a record’s popularity over its quality. This means that yes, I do think this is one of Bowie’s most high-quality releases ever. But how? It doesn’t capture that same magic you might get from a more character/world-driven record. It’s not as artsy or forward-thinking as some of his late-70s stuff. It’s wildly different from the Glam Rock, Plastic Soul, or Post Pop sounds of his previous work. It’s just pure Dance Pop! I credit my love of this record almost entirely to legendary Chic member Nile Rogers, and his contributions to the production and performances of Let’s Dance. Also, I don’t think viewing this album in contrast to a more “character-driven” record misses the point a little bit. Whether Bowie is portraying a character with a name and backstory or not, his performance is always going to be a character portrayal of some kind. In this case, that character is a curly blonde-haired Pop raconteur. He’s got the moves, he’s got the style and even though he’s not an alien, he’s probably farther from reality than any other Bowie incarnation, and I think that’s incredible. If you still don’t understand why I’ve placed Let’s Dance I’d encourage you to try and deny the Pop potency of the songs. Can you deny the Post-Modern gospel of “Modern Love”? Or the intense groove of “Let’s Dance” and “Shake It”? I especially enjoy the polished interpretation of the Iggy Pop classic “China Girl” (a song that Bowie originally wrote for Iggy Pop in the first place). To top it off, I will die for the underrated classic, “Cat People (Putting Out Fire)”, though I couldn’t begin to tell you what it’s about. This is Bowie the performer and Bowie the song master working at their finest. It’s very 80s and that’s why I love it.
8. Diamond Dogs (1974)
Ladies and gentlemen, this is it, we finally have our winner for the worst album cover of David Bowie’s entire discography. While I was still discovering Bowie, it took me a while to work up the courage to listen to Diamond Dogs and can you blame me? What I didn’t realize was that it was a top-tier Bowie record in disguise. I wouldn’t call Diamond Dogs a perfect record per se, but I still hold it in high regard. The development of the record was pretty interesting as well. After Bowie decided to retire the Ziggy Stardust character, he wanted to make a Rock Opera based on the novel 1984. Unfortunately for Bowie at the time, the Orwell estate was unwilling to let him do that so he had to scrap that project. Enter Diamond Dogs the sort of concept record based more loosely on 1984. I think it results in a great album with great songs, particularly the single “Rebel Rebel”, but it doesn’t quite hang with the Fire of Ziggy and Aladdin. I think this record captures Bowie exhausting the last bit of Glam Rock energy he had left, he went into debt from the expenses of the elaborate stage shows for it, (possibly fueled by cocaine), but it is nonetheless an exciting and enjoyable moment in Bowie’s career.
7. Young Americans (1975)
Perhaps exhausted by the overly elaborate theatricality of Diamond Dogs, Bowie changed pace and changed the genre. Bowie’s Plastic Soul era is probably one of his most problematic, but you can’t argue with the output. Bowie’s unique voice and powerful performing abilities fit like a glove in the world of Philly Funk and Soul. And you can’t deny that his desire to work in that vein was a result of his deep appreciation for the genre and the artists contributing. Sure it’s always going to be a plastic version of the real thing, but I think it sounds amazing. This album has some hitters, which is what I think puts it above Diamond Dogs. How are you going to argue with songs like “Young Americans”, “Fascination”, or freakin’ “Fame”???? I love a lot of Bowie’s eras, but I’ve routinely found myself drawn to this era the most. It’s just a preference of mine I suppose.
6. Blackstar (2016)
I listened to Blackstar again shortly after finishing an analysis of The Next Day. I was fully expecting my memory of it to be better than reality, and I desperately wanted to make the point that people wrongfully focus on Blackstar over The Next Day because humans are obsessed with death. That’s not the argument I ended up making, nor will it ever be. That’s because Blackstar is as good as everyone seems to say it is. It is a tremendous artistic feat, a powerful look into the mind of a man facing his greatest obstacle. If someone were to tell me Blackstar is the greatest Bowie record of all time, I’d likely disagree, but I would understand. Bowie never made a record as emotionally potent. As passionate. As fearful. As dark. As hopeful. As wise. Beyond that, the record is also a tremendous musical leap forward for Bowie, utilizing a Jazz ensemble for the instrumentals rather than the band he’d been working with for the last three records. More than anything, I would have loved to hear Bowie continue to experiment with this uncanny fusion of Radiohead-esque Alternative Rock with the slippery Space-Jazz of Blackstar. Beyond the obvious meta-text of the record being Bowie’s swan song, it’s an amazing artistic evolution in itself. That’s truly the kind of thing only Bowie could do. The vocal manipulations on the title track are truly haunting, it sounds like Bowie is speaking with 12 or so voices simultaneously. I’m not sure how he and Visconti achieved the effect, but it does speak beautifully to the multitudes of identities that the Blackstar himself espoused throughout the years. And how could I go on without talking about the heart-wrenching “Lazarus”? The very real look into Bowie’s idea of death is seemingly delivered after the fact. It’s almost like Bowie saw himself as already gone, and that even as he performed in the studio, he was speaking to millions of people from the grave. That’s the power of recorded music, I suppose. My favorite part of that song is that you can hear Bowie breathing heavily into the mic between vocals. He’s performing everything he has left, even amidst cancer treatment. It’s a powerful testament to the level of artistry the man displayed. So no, even though I might occasionally prefer to celebrate Bowie’s life in The Next Day, I couldn’t say that that experience is anywhere near as profound as the final songs of our Blackstar.
5. Low (1977)
As we move higher and higher up this ladder, I’m beginning to become more aware of what makes an ok, good, great and superior David Bowie album. My top 5 Bowie records cover what I believe to be the three great eras of his musical career. We have the Glam Rock era that ended with Diamond Dogs, the Plastic Soul era that began with Young Americans, and now we’ll take some time to analyze Bowie’s first true Art-Rock record: Low. Low frequently tops or hovers near the top of Bowie rankings, but it should be noted that Low wasn’t an immediate success—critically or popularly. The shift from glam Rock to Soul was a major one, but feels like a mere microscopic change compared to the leap to Low. What prompted this immense shift was largely a change in scenery and a lifestyle change. After cocaine nearly killed him in LA, Bowie made the move to Berlin. While there he became immersed in new forms of art, culture and music, all the while waging a difficult war for personal sobriety. What we get is the culmination of Bowie pulling inspiration from new influences and new collaborations as well. The production of the Berlin era was a group effort between Bowie himself, Tony Visconti and Brian Eno of Roxy Music. Brian Eno’s influence in particular makes up a large part of this album. Immediately Low distinguishes itself from what we’re used to from Bowie with an instrumental track as the opener, the bubbly “Speed of Life”. This song sets a very unique tone for the album with its unique electronic feel. Germany is known for being a hotbed for electronic pioneers, but there is a living and breathing quality to the electronic sounds of Low that set it apart completely from the cold bloops and beeps of Kraftwerk (no shade toward Kraftwerk). It feels like Bowie and Eno managed to infuse the passion and Soul Bowie and his band were already bringing into these synths. The result is something unique. The songwriting on this record is particularly incredible as well. The best way I’ve come to describe the songwriting approach is Post-Pop, breaking down the conventions of Pop music to its bones and letting the cavalcade of glassy walls of noise envelope the songs. At least, that’s the approach for the first half of the album. The second half of the record consists of four triumphant ambient masterpieces. Truly, this is Bowie evolving beyond the figure he had become and achieving an artistic transcendence.
4. Aladdin Sane (1973)
When I listen to Bowie in the 70s, especially at the peak of his Glam Rock powers, I find it difficult to compare it to his other work. What I mean by this, is that these songs are so good, that I’m not sure if anything else that Bowie did can stand next to them. As much as I love all of the other eras in his career, nothing is or has ever been as great as Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust years. Or at least, that’s how I feel in the moment, as I experience these songs in real time. From the high-octane, wildly euphemistic “Cracked Actor”, the undeniable energy of album opener “Watch That Man”, and the entrancing “Lady Grinning Soul”, this album is truly next level. This album is top 3 for me if I ignore some of Bowie’s later accomplishments. Bowie himself called it “Ziggy goes to America”, an accurate depiction. The hopeful passion of the preceding Ziggy Stardust, the theatricality and Glam Rock drama are all but replaced by an obsession with sex, drugs and rock n roll. For that, I think Aladdin Sane is an excellent follow-up to one of the greatest albums of all time. It still feels appropriately in the same Glam Rock vein, but with just enough variation to keep things interesting. To say Aladdin Sane is a departure from theatricality isn’t entirely accurate, I think Bowie saw a lot of theater in the Rock stars of the time. He captured that energy more symbolically in Ziggy, and more realistically in Aladdin Sane. Aladdin Sane points to a looming corrosiveness in Bowie’s newly acquired rock and roll lifestyle. He would spend the remainder of the decade suffering the consequences and reacting to it more directly.
3. Station to Station (1976)
Although I’m only placing it at number three, Station to Station is my personal favorite Bowie record of all time. It’s the one I return to the most. I find it unique. It builds on Bowie’s particular interpretation of Funk and Soul, his self-proclaimed “Plastic Soul” era, but it feels more jagged, freaky and bleak. Station to Station can be best classified as Dark Soul. It’s the most effective description of the chaos of Bowie’s mental state at the time. It’s Bowie at the peak of his “Cocaine Era”, during this time he would don the character of “The Thin White Duke”, a Freak-Funk-Fascist who breathed paranoia. At this point, Bowie’s interviews were more off-the-rails- than they would ever be, sometimes waxing poetic about “Hitler the Rockstar” and so on. In later interviews, speaking of this era in hindsight, Bowie reflected on it as truly his darkest period, and that the things he said don’t at all reflect who he is now. Still, I think there is a lot of value in his artistic output at this time. I don’t think his band ever sounded better than they did at this time, even more so than Mick Ronson’s Spiders From Mars. Again in an interview, Bowie reflected that he was so high on cocaine at the time of this recording, that he doesn’t even remember recording it. Yet here it is, a captured moment in time we can enjoy 48 years later. Bowie’s performances never sounded more desperate or more emotional. Each line delivered in “Word on a Wing” feels like Bowie is teetering on the edge. From the energetic extended intro on the title track to the feverish cover of Nina Simone’s “Wild is the Wind” at the conclusion, Station to Station is Dark-Soul at its most potent. This is one of the great artistic triumphs of Bowie’s career. Unfortunately, it required him to reach harrowing depths to produce.
2. Heroes (1977)
Heroes, the second Berlin record, is as good as Low, but the songs in the first half are more fleshed out and more characteristically Bowie. One thing I notice when looking at other people’s Bowie rankings is that Low is almost always higher than Heroes, which I respect as a matter of preference. I’ve never been able to understand why that is. I love Low as much as anyone, but does that album have a better song than the title track, “Heroes”? If you’ve heard only a few Bowie songs, I would assume “Heroes” is one of them. Few songs fill me with as much hope as that song. I can’t think of any song (period) that speaks to the human spirit in the way that “Heroes” does. It speaks to Bowie’s strengths as a songwriter, performer and producer. One of my favorite anecdotes about that song is that during the recording process, toward the end of the song, Brian Eno starts slowly moving the microphone away from Bowie, forcing him to sing more loudly and more desperately so he can be heard in the recording. The result is one of the most passionate vocal deliveries I’ve ever heard in a song. Heroes follows the same formula set by Low, with varying musical choices which ultimately lead to a different vibe. I haven’t been able to quite put my finger on the nature of the emotionalities of these two records, but I think they’re both perfect albums.
1. The Rise of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars (1972)
What makes a perfect album? That’s a question I think about a lot. Although I’ve given in to the temptation to quantify the values of Bowie’s records through this list, I’ve made a calculated choice not to give any of these albums a numerical score. The only scale that matters to me when it comes to music is the scale the artist creates. I don’t see a lot of value in comparing the art a Rapper is making with the art a Rock Band makes. At least not on a hierarchical scale of value. To me, a perfect album is a lot of things, but most importantly it’s art that fulfills the measure of its purpose. Who decides that purpose? I don’t think anyone truly does, but the music knows, and if it’s perfect it will fill us, shape us and change us for the better. I don’t think a perfect record needs to be profound necessarily. Take for example the self-titled record by The New York Dolls. That is a perfect Rock record. It captures the pure essence of what Rock and Roll is, and it delivers it in a truly powerful way. Every song on the album is perfect. Every performance fills the measure of its purpose. Another example of a perfect record is The Love Supreme by John Coltrane. That record is truly a spiritual experience, a masterpiece in Jazz performance and composition. It fills the measure of its purpose. I’m biased, and I think Bowie produced 6 perfect albums, but only one could be considered his masterpiece, his magnum opus. That record is The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars. Leading up to this album I’ve talked a great deal about Bowie the performer, the storyteller, and the actor. I believe his music represents a journey he took to transcend himself. With each record, he drew closer and closer to finally cracking the code, but in truth, I don’t think he ever did. The closest he ever came, however, was with this album. This album tells the story of a band of aliens who come to Earth led by Ziggy Stardust, a pansexual humanoid from another world. Their message is that the earth is dying, and they are here to process that with us. Every song, every performance from Bowie and the band, is perfect. Mick Ronson’s guitar work especially is fantastic. This record truly took Rock music to a new level. Bowie finally found a way to blend Rock and Roll with theater without creating dissonance. This is the first Bowie album I ever listened to and the first record I ever got on vinyl. I remember finding a video recording of a live David Bowie show from this era, specifically a performance of the song “Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide”. I can still remember how the power of that performance made me feel, it brought me to tears. I believe music has the power to change us, and in that moment I could feel it change me. Let’s hope it was for the better.
Conclusion:
Thanks for sticking with this three-part series! This list was pretty difficult for me to make, and I might change my mind on some of the choices here as time goes on, but I’m proud of what I’ve pulled together here! Until next time!
For want of the ability to squawk like a pink monkey bird,
Lewis