When considering the David Bowie discography, I would say that his 1973 album Aladdin Sane occupies a curious place, and fulfils a rather nebulous role. It sometimes might seem that the record is a token gesture, an afterthought in the wake of the spectacular '...Ziggy Stardust....' project which came before it. Indeed, such evaluations had until comparatively recently instilled in me a tendency to ignore the work. The better-known numbers were familiar to me, of course, as were snippets of the less prominent tracks.
It was whilst on a lengthy car journey (as a passenger) a few years ago that the sheer effervescence and excellence of Aladdin Sane was truly brought home to me. The CD was playing on the car stereo, and although the road noise and other extraneous distractions conspired to make the listening experience less than ideal, I was left enthused, and eager to explore the work more at my leisure.
The 'Ziggy Stardust' album is regularly held up, along with a couple of other releases from around the same time, as one of the primary monuments of British glam rock. This assessment is difficult to contradict, but I would also contend that Aladdin Sane exudes a consummately 'glam rock' sensibility in large measures. This stems in part from what I would term the 'sleazy decadence' of much of the sound, and the extravagant, almost exaggerated production values of some of the tracks are in line with other landmark 'glam' records of the early 70s. Add the 'avant-garde' trappings, which many have drawn attention to, and you have an invigorating spectacle, which does not feel contrived or self-conscious. The music has many dark and mysterious corners and departures to examine, imbuing it with a peculiar personality and force.
To me, the influence of contemporary American rock music can be keenly felt on the album; I am thinking of songs like 'Watch That Man' and 'Panic In Detroit'. which exhibit harder edges and are less buttoned-down and contained. On closer inspection, these tendencies predominate on a goodly portion of the record, and the presence of 'The Jean Genie' only underlines and reinforces this point, but somehow they linger less in my memory and my psyche than do other elements or affectations, and therein lies my perception of the record.
Some of the material, including the title track, has an unsettling atmosphere, perhaps reflective of the tense and uncertain social and economic climate of the times. What unites the compositions though is their air of confidence and self-assurance on the part of the artist, as if he rather revels in, and thrives on, instability and foreboding.
Although this record sees Bowie engaging in some experimentation, and hinting at the direction his music would take in the mid-Seventies, one or two of the songs would not sound out of place on previous LPs, notably 'Drive-In Saturday'.
'Cracked Actor' is, I would estimate, a case of the two 'schools', the rock and the art-rock, coalescing, but the pugnacious narrowly wins out in the end. 'Time' on the other hand sees the Bowie of 1971/72 assuming new goggles, taking the 'template' into fresh territory, growing, expanding.
'The Prettiest Star' is another track which embraces the flavour of all of Bowie's classic 71-73 studio albums, highlighting traits which we might associate with them all. When joined together, they help to assign Aladdin Sane its identity and its aura. The essential sound of '73, perhaps?
A word must also be reserved here to draw attention to Mick Ronson's crunchy and pleasing guitar work throughout, a motif and a recurring delight. It has been said before, but those guitar parts add a new dimension, standing out even amongst the genius of Bowie.
Arriving last on the original album, but for me constituting the centrepiece of the album, is 'Lady Grinning Soul'. Its slinky 'out of time' spirit and its menacing inventiveness are a reminder of what, in qualitative terms, the collection is really all about.
So there you have it. One of Bowie's greatest achievements, but also one of his most 'deceptive' and awkward to pin down. Essential listening for a full, if complicated, understanding of what Bowie meant in '73, where the world and culture were in '73, and for some tantalising hints of where Bowie might have been heading in the years ahead.
