Out in early 1977, David Bowie’s Low blasts off with all sorts of synthetic sounds and marks yet another slab of new ground for the especially eclectic singer. But ‘Speed Of Life’ is all instruments, and these instruments emit some gnarly noises in an otherwise danceable ditty with a few funky themes. Amid all the synths, even the drums brandish a robotic badge. Every element seem to screech out of some alien apparatus, and that’s the general gist of this record: pop music from space (perhaps at one time the ol’ Spiders really did live on Mars?). ‘Breaking Glass’ begins with a strange break between bass-n-drums, funky in feel and hard to follow as a raw guitar offsets everything with tense bends. All suddenly segue to different-key disco with David on the mic muttering nothing much but funny stuff like: “don’t look at the carpet / I drew something awful on it”. Synths only occasionally touch up the tune with a simple three note ear-panning passage passing from right-to-left. The tricky intro returns with layered Davids fearfully singing. It all fades away instrumentally doing another dash of disco. ‘What In The World’ proceeds at a paranoid pace with too many busy instruments tripping around each other. Something similar to the sound of Pac-Man appears prominently above every other instrument. Bowie hardly bothers to sing the verses and opts instead for casual low-toned mumblings about the “little girl with grey eyes”; nevertheless, the song starts to steam each chorus with its swift dynamic shifts of chord and wonderings of “what in the world can you do?”. A true query when you’re only “talking through the gloom”. ‘Sound And Vision’ is a sprightly song with its immediately bright tones: a bubbly bass, a spunky six-string, and something like eggs sizzling on a pan every other beat. Soon: synths join in with huge sustained joys-to-the-world. “Ooh ahh” from a bunch of Bowies. Nasty saxophone just for a few seconds to cue the singer for his favorite subjects: “don’t you wonder sometimes / about sound and vision?” He’s all over in the octaves, high-n-low (but mostly low). His lyrics are few and the singing itself is subdued and distorted, but somehow, it still sounds stunningly lovely all the while. ‘Always Crashing In The Same Car’ winds down a slow and lonely road, but the sound is anything but sparse. Expansive synths bubble and burst in the background as extra-gritty guitars shakily strum vast downbeats. Something like ‘Lady Marmalade’ repeats on a miserable mellotron and Bowie wheezes his inevitable fate with the intriguing idea of “always crashing in the same car”. The music matches the morose mood; on “car”, everything collapses into a cycle of deceptive cadences. Here we hear the music perfectly portray the rise-n-fall of one’s dreams. ‘Be My Wife’ rollicks with its pub piano and guitar rocking a repeating rhythmic gesture at the end of each phrase, but the lyrics regard the aimless singer’s sad solitude as a star. Disco chorus features a dancing bass and Bowie’s adorable or perhaps desperate declaration: “please be mine / share my life / stay with me / be my wife”. Is it happiness or hopelessness that compels him to inquire after a companion? ‘A New Career In A New Town’ treads its territory tenderly. Gentle strains of synthscape softly paint this picture of a man seeking a fresh start on his life. Nevertheless, it doesn’t take too long until he breaks through and finds his footing; the main theme of this music carries an immensely optimistic momentum. Featured most prominently are the wistful winds of a harmonica. No words are sung, but the music resonates with its own hefty emotional impact. ‘Warszawa’ starts off the second side of songs with its rows of low synths all rumbling out repetitions on one holy note. This slow and sacred procession makes for an imposing entrance. A minute in, the song finally arrives and activates with all the lovely layered true-gloom synths forming full unison melancholy melodies over-n-over. Later, Bowie chants in unintelligible tribal-like tongues as if the spokesperson at some sublimely sad ceremony for the deceased. Perhaps the piece must best be perceived as a musical memorial, something like the sonic snapshot of an ashen bomb-scarred Warsaw in World War II; or for any incident where innocents suffered dispossession and death. ‘Art Decade’ advances the ambient style of the last track; it’s just as melodic but it’s busier. Melodies spiral down around sounds of vibraphone and synths and a cello or two. Various unaccountable noises distantly rip through the air in quick occasional flurries. Swampy synths burble. Even with lots of layers, a single static sound is sustained throughout; and that’s the hallmark of A+ ambient music. ‘Weeping Wall’ happens with hypnotic mallet instruments playing murder music at an anxious pace. Big synths go for ‘Greensleeves’ (or some similar modal melody) as the chords continually chart an unpredictable pattern. Distorted guitars shear through simple solos featuring minimal pitches and long sustained bends. Tribal choir gets rather reverberant at the end and sounds something like a train. Everything has a place in the manic mood. There’s no development at all, but that’s not the point. ‘Subterraneans’ concludes the collection with more real-deal ambient music. Lonely, hopeless, spacious, the track floats on a cloud of misty synths throbbing in reverse. A treacherous bass builds up approaching with only a few notes heard at any time. Wordless voices join the joyless assembly. Out of the big blue, a saxophone comes a-crawling with forlorn lines to share. Bowie’s tone of voice tightens on a nice rhythmic bit of nonsense: “care-line, care-line, care-line / care-line driving me / Shirley, Shirley, Shirley own / share bride failing star”. It fades away wearily and the album’s over. Despite the title, David Bowie’s Low is actually “high” as far as artistic achievements are concerned. Vastly influential, the album and its wacky sound make for essential listening if you’re interesting in charting the natural course that pop music would pave into the eighties. And what about world music? This album covers lots of ground.