More about: David Bowie

Finally, the day we thought we never come – the return of the Thin White Duke.

While The Rolling Stones’ reunion and gigs could be seen coming from a mile off, David Bowie did what he does best and took the world completely by surprise. Many of us had resigned ourselves to the fact that we’d never hear from our Bowie again – believing what Bowie biographer Paula Trynka said in 2011: “I think he would only come back if he thinks he could deliver something that will be seismic. If you pop back into the stage, it’s got to be something that has a big explosion and lots of flashes. It would be a bit of a miracle if he comes back, but miracles do happen.”

Then, on a sleepy January morning on Bowie’s 66th birthday, we got our miracle when he dropped ‘Where Are We Now’ and announced The Next Day. Always the master of the media, Bowie’s silence and apparent inaction whipped up more of a hype-storm than a million radio interviews and TV chat show appearances ever could.

But can the hype be justified? Has Bowie truly delivered ‘something seismic’ or is the world just relieved that a true genius of invention and reinvention has returned? An OK Bowie album is still unfathomably better than about 90 per cent of records clogging up the charts after all. So, where are we now?

‘The Next Day’
Kicking off very much where 2003’s Reality kicked off, the opening title track has that same matured glam-rock swagger. With a lick and chorus reminiscent of ‘Beauty and the Beast’, it’s the sound of Ziggy coming of age or The Man Who Fell To Earth feeling truly at home. “I can’t get enough of that Doomsday song,” snarls Bowie with intent, “here I am, not quite dying…have a next day, and another day.” The track screams the idea that Bowie’s swansong is a long way off yet, and for that we should be thankful.

‘Dirty Boys’
You’d be forgiven for mistaking the damp horns, filthy chopped guitar and swampy beat of ‘Dirty Boys’ for a Tom Waits song, but the sleazy and evocative tone only adds to the typically eclectic mesh of sounds on The Next Day. So much so that this could probably sit quite comfortably as a mellower moment on ‘Lodger’.

'The Stars (Are Out Tonight)'
Shimmering in its majesty, this is the single that is far more representative of The Next Day as a whole. While ‘Where Are We Now’ was a stately and pensive moment of introvert reflection, ‘The Stars (Are Out Tonight)’ is a fierce but vibrant classic Bowie rocker in the vein of material from the brilliant ‘Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps)’. “They watch us from behind their shades – Brigitte, Jack and Kate and Brad,” pines Bowie, playing out a voyeuristic and detached view of celebrity culture into an intergalactic scale: “We will never be free of these stars but we hope they live forever.” Quite fitting for a man who gets papped buying a sandwich before rumours of imminent death flood the media.

Watch 'The Stars (Are Out Tonight)' below

‘Love Is Lost’
Very much steeped in a late 70s krautrock sound, ‘Love Is Lost’ sees choppy post- punk guitars slice over a droning church organ synth to create an ever-building sense of tension.

‘Where Are We Now?’
And that tension is immediately dissipated with the dreamy elegiac release of ‘Where Are We Now’ - a soul-twisingly beautiful reflection on Bowie’s work and life in the late 1970s making his impeccable Berlin Trilogy. It’s a slow-burning and fragile testament to growing old gracefully – something he’s clearly been doing very well. Romantic and gripping, you find your heart in the back of your throat by the time you reach the moving crooning crescendo of: “As long as there’s fire, as long as there’s me, as long as there’s you…”

Watch 'Where Are We Now?' below

‘Valentine’s Day’
Not dissimilar to ‘Everyone Says Hi’ from the underrated Heathen, ‘Valentine’s Day’ is a sweet and poppy ditty, but this time the deceptively gorgeous sound is brilliantly juxtaposed to the stoically delivered tale of a tyrannical mass murderer. Oh, Bowie…

‘If You Can See Me’
Another heavily Scary Monsters-influenced rocker, with more than a modernised smack of ‘What In The World’ from ‘Low’. Cracking stuff, this.

‘I’d Rather Be High’
Lifted ever skywards by that classic luscious ‘Breaking Glass’ guitar sound and subtle military beats, ‘I’d Rather Be High’ is a fluid but imaginative soliloquy from a despondent soldier who would ‘rather smoke and phone his ex, be begging for some teenage sex’. The main character’s sense of marooned paranoia draws pretty obvious parallels with Bowie’s past in his darker hours. Pop music needs more minds with Bowie’s restless wit and engaging sense of narrative.

‘Boss of Me’
Bowie’s love of a cheeky saxophone creeps into this dark and bubbly little romantic love note tale of a smitten big cheese as he asks: “who’d have thought that a smalltown girl like you would be the boss of me?”

‘Dancing Out In Space’
A gorgeous highlight of The Next Day, ‘Dancing Out In Space’ is a slice of pure Bowie. It’s almost as if Flight of the Conchords wrote the title for him. But this is far from self-parody, this is just lovely. The carefree swooning sounds and shimmying rhythms make the idea that he may not play this live all the more painful.

‘How Does The Grass Grow?’
Another jazzy and juttering experimental little beast with moments that echo some of the more esoteric twisted pop on Lodger, yet clearly rooted in melody and not quite as ‘out there’.

'(You Will) Set The World On Fire'
Raucous Jack White style guitar underlies this fond retelling of the promise of Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and Bowie’s own heroes from the 1960s folk scene in Greenwich Village: “Midnight in the Village, see the lights of candles from daylight to gaslight – Baez leaves the stage...I can hear the nation cry.”

‘You Feel So Lonely You Could Die’
With a similar beat and mournful tone to the immaculate ‘Five Years’, ‘You Feel So Lonely You Could Die’ is the soul-drenched sound of Bowie painting a grim picture of a spy movie scenario where ‘the rat’ meets a rather sticky end: “Lovers thrown in airless rooms, then vile rewards for you, I can see you hanging from a beam.

‘Heat’
As the shuddering and haunting drone ‘Heat’ brings The Next Day to a doom-ridden end, the chameleon of rock shifts shapes once more adopt the character of the son of a prison warden to deliver a Scott Walker-esque croon to prine: “And I tell myself, I don’t know who I am.” Another gripping tale powerfully told. Regardless of hype, you realise that you’ve just sat through wonderfully strange journey of wonderfully imaginative and excellently crafted songs from a rare talent. The rarest in fact. The playful defaced Heroes album cover says it all. The record is loaded with the sense of an artist looking back at a colourful life behind him, and instead of being weighed down or having to compete with his own legacy, carrying it with him to use all of his acquired artistry and experience to say something in a language that only Bowie can.

Did we get our ‘seismic miracle’? Bowie being Bowie is more than enough.

David Bowie's The Next Day is released on 11 March

More about: David Bowie