When Davy Jones was in his Brixton school playground and his best mate (mark that – his best mate) whupped him a good-un upside the head, his eyes span round like fruit machine wheels, finally settling on the blue and brown we know and love. If only his best mate had whacked him a few more times, maybe hoping to get a jackpot pay-out of a pair of cherries, we may have been spared the pair of lemons we actually got. The pair of Tin Machine albums.
Taking the piss out Tin Machine is thoroughly redundant, since even Bowie does it. Indeed the smugness engendered by the world and his wife when they note that they were not fooled by Tin Machine masks the publics generally folly. You see the very thing Tin Machine was trying to be (ie late eighties Genesis) your man in the street lapped up in droves. No there is something almost quaint about the underachievement of Bowie’s first band. Sure it was noisy, squally nonsense played by old blokes in bad suits, but this was the eighties and it was probably worth a try. Anyway, the name lends itself to Din Machine far too easily to have ever been a serious venture.
No, tis to Bowie post Tin Machine we look to if we want to see the proper definition of a pop chameleon. Your lizard chameleon of course is well known for being able to change colour to blend into the background. As long as those colours range from green to yellow. Similarly, Bowie in the nineties has been able to blend seamlessly into any musical trend: from the green of rock to the yellow of industrial. Let’s look at those nineties albums in full:
Black Tie White Noise
Bowie said: The closest I’ve come to summing up my whole sound whilst being informed by house and dance music.
It actually was: A selection of songs with bad production values set to cheesy dance beats which oddly managed to sound a bit like Nine Inch Nails.
The critics said: A partial return to form.
The Public: Didn’t buy it.
1: Outside
Bowie said: A multi-charactered concept album about art, murder and technology.
It actually was: A dull album featuring some funny bits where Bowie pretends to be an old fella (he is) and a 14 girl over a backing that sounds a bit like Nine Inch Nails.
The critics said: A partial return to form
The Public: Didn’t buy it.
Earthling:
Bowie said: My pre-millennial stab at understanding modern England – from pastorialism to Drum’n’Bass.
It actually was: Bog standard Bowie filler material with skittish jungle beats which sounded a bit like Nine Inch Nails.
The critics said: A partial return to form
The public: Didn’t buy it.
Hours…
Bowie said: An honest self-reflective look back on my career set to serene trip-hop beats.
It actually was: An embarressing attempt to get autobiographical over ambient yawn-hop which still manages to sound a bit like Nine Inch Nails.
The critics said: A partial return to form
The public: Didn’t buy it.
So in summation: Bowie wasn’t hit hard enough when he was a kid, and his next work will most probably be his take on UK Garage which the critics will call a partial return to form. I for one am looking forward to a UK Garage album that sounds a bit like Nine Inch Nails.