cultural echoes: saviour machine

So what echoes do we get from the past?

What kind of ‘cultural’ echoes do we get?

What do we remember? Do we recall accurately?

Nowadays, Bowie appears to be perceived as being the only figure of the early 70s, a pioneer of fashion, culture and a musical genius, a phenomenon. It’s as if there were nothing else happening then. Is this true?

When I was putting this site together, its designer, a colleague of mine, immediately recognised Bowie when I showed him the two images for the blog page, A Creamed Cage In August, but he had no idea who Bolan was. I kid you not. It is a testimony to Bowie’s stature and ‘cultural clout’ that many younger people recognise him and rightly respect his talent. But how many people actually know about the evolution of Ziggy or the chronological path of Bowie’s gradual ascent to prominence and eventually “overnight” stardom?

“Kids want a saviour, don’t need a fake!” - Alice Cooper, Elected [1973]

Was Bowie the saviour the kids needed or got? Was he the messiah everybody now acknowledges was the great leader of the 70s pack? And, heaven help us, the great innovator of “glam rock?” Never heard of it.

Well, let’s jump back a little from Alice’s 1973 anthem to early 1972, when Bowie was still recording tracks for his explosive new album, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. Quite a mouthful. He had only recently released Hunky Dory the preceding December and rumour has it wanted to put out a commercial rock and roll album between Hunky Dory and Ziggy. Titles certainly exist and some demos, but the existing material doesn’t suggest rocking in the free world at all. “Looking for a Friend” anyone?

While Bowie was playing Kingston Polytechnic in May, 1972, Bolan had just completed a hat trick of No.1 singles, a quite remarkable achievement. He’d just released his fourth No.1, the pop classic, Metal Guru. Although I’m not a fan of this (and never bought it), it shows the distance Bowie had to make up in the industry. Bolan was light years ahead. He was the current superstar of the UK and selling records by the bucketload. His success had started at the end of 1970 with Ride a White Swan and then took off in March 1971 with Hot Love, which stayed at the top of the charts for six weeks. Bolan’s “overnight success” had taken a good five years. The album, Electric Warrior, seemed to be in the charts for ever that year.

Bolan then left Fly Records to form his own label with EMI, with his own logo. This was unheard of. It was certainly the most expensive vanity project ever. Fly did their best to unsettle the project by rereleasing as much old material of Bolan’s as they could find. They even released Jeepster from the album to interrupt his official releases, but even that made No.2 in the UK charts! Ride a White Swan had virtually saved the Fly label from extinction (Octopus was the original name!) and Bolan’s departure was fairly bitter. Still a couple of the lads (Gaydon and Enthoven) did ok later when they stumbled upon a chap called Ferry who was pushing some demos around. EG Management attained their bingo moment in Roxy Music.

Bowie, according to my poster for Ziggy, went out, after some pub gigs, on a tour of mainly clubs, such as the Top Rank and Locarno night spots. It was all fairly modest, suggesting global domination was not part of the plan. It doesn’t suggest that either RCA or Bowie’s own management expected any lasting damage from project Zig.

It’s useful here to take a look at what was going on in the recording studios and at the concerts. It was hardly calculated. And never a concept!

The best account of the album’s journey is in Mark Paytress’s book. It must be remembered, too, that it was produced again by Ken Scott who had just done Hunky Dory, a soft production approach. In fact, one of the Hunky Dory leftovers was used on Ziggy. It’s not even in the same style as the rest of the tracks but bears more resemblance to Eight Line Poem than anything starship Martian! It was written by the American songster, Ron Davies, in any case, revealing more about Bowie’s fascination with (often obscure) American artists. Its length may have been one of the reasons for its inclusion, since there was roughly 19 minutes per side. However, shortage of material may also have been an issue. Two other tracks on Ziggy were remakes.

The album was rejected at least once by RCA, who were concerned about the lack of a single for radio. Hunky Dory, for all its innate greatness, had not been a commercial success and Bowie was still way down the pecking-order, even compared with The Sweet! Incredible. One version of Ziggy contains the Chuck Berry single, Round and Round, which did make a Bowie b-side later. It made way for the eventual single, Starman, which had brought me to Bowie. As I have mentioned elsewhere on this site, I had ordered it before its release and was therefore familiar with its b-side, Suffragette City. So, the album considered a masterpiece by many these days had an inauspicious and jerky gestation.

Is it great? Is it the best album of all time? Is it even Bowie’s best album?

Time for an anecdote. I had the single. Did I need the whole album? It was a bit of a wait. The single was out at the end of April, but the album June! Off I go to Boots (the chemist). Yep. Boots. They had a record store upstairs in the shop then. I commit my usual act of sacrilege with rare items. I pick up the pristine first copy of Ziggy, study it, am suitably unimpressed with the cartoon font of the title and the daft title (stardust, the word, wasn’t that appealing) and immediately bought the James Taylor album I wanted. So Mud Slide Slim it was which won my £1.50. And rightly so. This isn’t the place for a review of that album, but it definitely was / is a classic.

What of Ziggy Stardust then? It’s probably become retrospectively more revered. Bowie’s band, The Spiders, became brilliant live. Initially more cautious, they developed in stages. Ultimately they were incredible, led by the talented and exceptionally gifted guitarist, Mick Ronson. It’s staggering that Ronson doesn’t get a writing credit for the album, The Man Who Sold The World. It’s virtually his album. Make no mistake. No Ronson, no Spiders. No Spiders and Bowie’s career may have stalled forever. Ronson was absolutely key to Bowie’s success. A craftsman. Orchestral arranger. He was Bowie’s equal in every sense. And what a guitarist! Melodic, fluid, yet as heavy as you could get, if you needed. He was Bowie’s crutch. The rhythm section of Bolder on bass and Woodmansey on drums were a powerhouse and the Spiders could rock with the best of them. By late 72 and into 73 the band was swollen to include all sorts of instrumentation, but the core was the same.

The point I’m making is…….the live production drew from a number of albums, not one, and Ziggy, the stage character, became huge. He wasn’t related to one album only, but an amalgam of four. By the time of Aladdin Sane there were five albums to draw material from. Ziggy, the record, became synonymous with all the shows from that time and stuck in the collective consciousness. The album was good, but is it as great as everyone hegemonically suggests?

Let’s get stuck in. “Moonage Daydream” is a masterpiece. No doubt. It became central on the tours in enthralling the audiences. Its position in the setlist was to slay the throngs. Live, it’s breath-taking. Its Ronson’s finest outing on any Bowie record. When Bowie performed this song live on later tours, it became a shell compared with Ronson’s versions. Take this track off Ziggy and it all seems rather tame fare.

The first three tracks on Ziggy are dramatic and flow nicely. Five Years appears to be an apocalyptic vision. Ken Scott says that Bowie was crying during his vocal take in the studio. Such was his passion for the song. Solid enough start. Interesting lyrically. The string arrangements remind you of Visconti’s production work. So, the album opens with the end of the world. Only Bowie would start with an end! Soul Love is pleasant and provides the bridge between the two drama queens in the opening salvo. Ronson’s guitar is again unassuming and excellent while Bowie’s sax part is more than efficient. So far so good.

Moonage Daydream and Starman are the only songs to hint at space. Ziggy Stardust does have the link to the album title but the Spiders from Mars appear to be a band, not time-travellers. And, while Bowie, attired as Ziggy on stage may have appeared to come from another planet, Ziggy, alas, did not. Starman was included on the album, following a request for a radio-friendly single by RCA. Bowie responded with the tune which launched his career. He even pinched the melody from Somewhere Over The Rainbow for the chorus. [Hence, the title of the bootleg, Starman Over The Rainbow]. Many people, especially musicians from later bands, recall Bowie’s appearance on Top of the Pops (UK TV chart show) as their Bowie epiphany moment. Strange really, since he’d been touring incessantly by July to rave reviews and his face was everywhere in the press and music papers. By the time it had charted, I’d owned it for nearly three months and the novelty had long expired. It’s not stood the test of time that well and even Bowie eschewed playing it live. It got a fond outing in 2002. It did the trick. It name-checked Get It On and demanded the children boogie. Shameless.

As mentioned above, It Ain’t Easy was a leftover from the Hunky Dory sessions. Hardly great.

Side Two opens with one of my favourite Bowie songs, or any song, for that matter. Perhaps it’s the musical reference to West Side Story. I’m not sure. I always thought Bowie was 90% rock ‘n roll and 10% musical theatre. It’s there throughout the entire catalogue, right from the off. Lady Stardust has beautiful understated piano - Ronson again? Exceptional stuff.

Then we get the mini-suite within the record, a kind of rock ‘n roll medley. There appear to be no gaps between the tracks, as you go on a whirlwind ride. There’s nothing other-worldy about Star. It could easily be Bowie talking about his shit-or-bust moment. It’s where the fictional and the autobiographical blur. And it wouldn’t be the last time. He’s narrating about the army in Northern Ireland. This is not the stuff of science-fiction. Bowie has always been attracted to anthropology and the political. Both Bowie and Bolan were fascinated by the future and the potential for social upheaval. Both were avid readers of sci-fi literature and films which challenged social norms. Clockwork Orange even influenced the Ziggy tour costumes and reappeared on Blackstar, as did the star from Bolan’s TV show!

Star is ok, but only ok.

Hang On To Yourself (a summons to onanism) is a tad lumpy on record. Live it’s unrecognisable. It used to open the Ziggy shows. In that environment it was total punk rock, four years before the Pistols. Ronson threw in some blistering guitar work live. Here it needed more of a rock feel. Even Visconti thinks Ziggy could have benefited from more of a rock aesthetic.

Next up, the title track. Bowie appears to have nicked half of Bolan’s Life’s A Gas with a riff he kept returning to in the future, sliding from A to G to F and back again. Sometimes in different keys, but nevertheless that same structure. At least Ronson’s guitar gets a bolder treatment. For many, this is their favourite Bowie moment. I recall it being a bit of a parody, even then. It seemed like a shot across the bows to Bolan, who was being referenced on the album. Bowie’s management even took a Bolan title for their operation in 1973, Mainman. Bolan, naturally returned the compliment on The Slider, but with diminishing returns.

It was becoming all rather incestuous, and vain!

Suffragette City is a banger, but should have had more bang, maybe. A favourite of mine, being the b-side to Starman, it brings the album to a fitting finale. Rock ‘n Roll Suicide sounded heavy as a title, but is a bit of a wimp in reality. There’s a song in there somewhere. It has that awkward Space Oddity opening which I don’t like. The progression from “milkfloat” on is excellent and the tune then takes off. “Gimme Your Hands!” screams Dave, as if he’s in tears again. The ending, which Ronson got no credit for, is awesome. There should have been many more C# minor and F# minor moments like this on the album. I love the way that Ronson ends this in the same dramatic fashion as Life On Mars, but this time on D flat (C# to you musos).

A curate’s egg, I reckon. It’s excellent, even brilliant in parts. But it’s also fairly mundane in places. Hunky Dory is far superior.

The music on the tours of late 72 & 73, particularly in the USA & Japan is outstanding. It’s criminal that some of these shows have not been released officially. Look out for performances in Detroit, Cleveland, Boston and Florida from the States. There are some awesome Japanese bootlegs flying around with complete shows and with newer material from Aladdin Sane. But it’s still Ziggy’s band, just wearing different clothes. Ronson is incredible throughout.

Ronson also manages to find a new recruit, with a tiny bit of talent, to tinkle the ivories. Mike Garson.

You couldn’t make it up.

What about those early shows? How did the set evolve?

Bowie always held a fascination for all things American and that didn’t stop with song-writers. On Hunky Dory he sang about Warhol, Dylan and parodied Lou Reed on Queen Bitch. He covered Fill Your Heart by Biff Williams and covered Buzz the Fuzz too in concert. He loved Neil Young and the Legendary Stardust Cowboy. Ron Davies’ It Ain’t Easy was done for Hunky Dory but ended up on Ziggy!

Kingston Polytechnic, May 6th, 1972

This set is a real mish-mash, with covers of songs by Jaques Brel, Cream and even a rare James Brown track. Sure, there are tracks from the new album, but there’s still that connection to the previous year’s show. There are six tracks from his other albums alongside the covers. That’s the bulk of the show. Quite cautious.

Hang On To Yourself
Ziggy Stardust
The Supermen
Queen Bitch
Song For Bob Dylan
Changes
Starman
Five Years
Space Oddity
Andy Warhol
Amsterdam
I Feel Free
Moonage Daydream
White Light White Heat
Gotta Get a Job (James Brown) - Kingston Poly
Suffragette City
Rock ‘n Roll Suicide
Waiting For The Man

Matthew Fisher played piano here.

No less than FIVE covers then, including two from the Velvet Underground. Tracks from the new album were carefully interspersed with material which was better-rehearsed and known. The location was relatively small, too, and typical of the early part of what was to become (by necessity) a mammoth outing.

At Bristol This Boy by the Beatles was attempted when they played the Locarno!

Royal Festival Hall, July 8th, 1972

This was the set for the “Save the Whale” charity gig, with Lou Reed as a guest. Bowie wanted to be seen as a champion of under-appreciated artists. Dylan now disappears from the repertoire, while Life on Mars gets a slot. Brel’s Port of Amsterdam is still in the acoustic interlude, though the folkiness couldn’t last much longer.

Introductory Music
Hang On To Yourself
Ziggy Stardust
Life On Mars?
The Supermen
Starman
Changes
Five Years
Space Oddity
Andy Warhol
Amsterdam
I Feel Free
Moonage Daydream
White Light White Heat
*Waiting For The Man
*Sweet Jane
*Suffragette City

Robin Lumley played piano here.
* Guest vocals by Lou Reed

Bowie & Ronson produced Reed’s Transformer album in 1972, to critical acclaim.

As the tour progressed and more dates were added, the band became tighter and more powerful. Larger venues were now being used, as the word of Bowie’s performances spread. Some songs were being dropped and replaced.

The Rainbow, Finsbury Park, August 19th, 1972

Quite a shake-up by this stage, as the Bowie machine gained momentum and started to capitalise on the growing interest among the UK public. More time was allotted for rehearsals prior to performances. Some heavy-hitting showstoppers were now included, becoming firm favourites with the fans. There was still an acoustic interlude which culminated in a startling rendition of Brel’s My Death, but it was a powerhouse rock show thereafter, with Ronson on fire.

Intro: Clockwork Orange
Lady Stardust
Hang On To Yourself
Ziggy Stardust
Life On Mars?
The Supermen
Changes
Five Years
Space Oddity
Andy Warhol
My Death
The Width Of A Circle
Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud
Starman
Queen Bitch
Suffragette City
White Light White Heat
Waiting For The Man
Acknowledgements
Moonage Daydream

Nicky Graham played piano here.

In the Autumn Bowie went to the States, where they got a mixed reception. Some places failed to sell.
However, some of the performances were astonishing.

Here’s the setlist from the fantastic Music Hall Memories bootleg in Boston.

Boston Music Hall, October 1st, 1972

Hang On To Yourself
Ziggy Stardust
Changes
The Supermen
Life On Mars?
Lady Stardust
Queen Bitch
Five Years
Space Oddity
Andy Warhol
My Death
The Width Of A Circle
John I’m Only Dancing
Starman
Moonage Daydream
Waiting For The Man
White Light White Heat
Suffragette City
Round and Round

This is the classic Ziggy set. The acoustic interlude (solo) was still there and the centrepiece, the rampaging Width of a Circle, cemented Ronson’s reputation as the latest guitar god. Mike Garson, the avant-garde musician, was now installed on piano.

In 1973, with a new album recorded hastily, some new tracks were added to the evolving set and Bowie toured the USA and then Japan, before concluding in the UK.

Shibuya Kokaido, Tokyo, Japan, April 20th, 1973 [Suicide Attack bootleg]

Intro
Hang On To Yourself
Ziggy Stardust
Changes
Moonage Daydream
John I’m Only Dancing
Watch That Man
The Jean Genie
Time
Five Years
Let’s Spend The Night Together
Starman
Suffragette City
Rock ‘n Roll Suicide
Round and Round

A shorter all-electric set, then.
Bowie returned to Europe from Japan by rail, courtesy of the Oriental Express.
Below is the set played in the US for the final time as The Spiders.

Masonic Auditorium, Detroit, March 1st, 1973

Hang On To Yourself
Ziggy Stardust
Changes
Moonage Daydream
Panic In Detroit
Five Years
Watch That Man
Aladdin Sane
Width Of A Circle
Space Oddity
Suffragette City
Jean Genie
Rock ‘n Roll Suicide

Another massive US tour was in the pipeline, but history (or the snide Tony Defries) had other plans, sadly.

So, the live shows, borrowing material from five different albums, not just Ziggy Stardust, formed the bedrock of the Ziggy myth, which prevails to this day. I still think The Man Who Sold The World is a better rock album, though I’m not one for saying, “That record is better than xxx record.” It’s pointless. Also Hunky Dory has some of the greatest songs on one album by any artist. Ziggy had some tough competition.

If the tours hadn’t become the huge successes that they eventually did become, then I reckon the album would have attained a much smaller place in the annals of popular culture. And the best song didn’t get recorded!

Note:
One of the best books to explain the difference between early Ziggy and the wildly successful Ziggy less than six months later is I Played Ziggy’s Guitar. There’s a chasm between what was considered to be Ziggy Tour 1 and the follow-up Ziggy Tour 2. What a read that is! Essential.