David Bowie's Berlin Trilogy

 I have in the past couple of years, belatedly and rewardingly, become a wholehearted and fully-fledged adherent to the notion that David Bowie was perhaps the most important and influential solo artist ever to emerge from Britain. Even now, I think that many people under-estimate just how good he was.

Bowie's period of greatest creativity and consistency arguably spanned the years between, let us say, 1969 and 1984. He maintained a remarkably high standard allied to what, looking back, seems a prodigious work-rate. It seems barely credible that he managed to cram so much into the time available. Writing and recording, not to mention touring and engaging in various side-projects as producer and collaborator. That's before we even get on to his acting career! This productivity and prolific output remain one some of the most notable aspects of the Bowie story.

For what it's worth, my personal view is that his work in the period 1970-73 remains his most vital and his most enduring. The other clearly identifiable series of works which attracts most praise, comment and scrutiny is the so-called 'Berlin Trilogy', released between 1977 and 1979, in the form of the albums 'Low', 'Heroes' and 'Lodger'. 

I approached this blog article with a vague sense that the trilogy had received slightly excessive praise, that the critics had grasped hold of these records out of relief, following Bowie's musical excursions and meanderings of the mid-1970s. Anyway, in order to confirm or refute my tentative analysis, I resolved to review the three LPs and commit my conclusions and observations to blog form.

Of course it is debatable whether the sounds unveiled on 'Low' were genuinely new or revelatory to the music-listening public at large. Groups such as Kraftwerk and Tangerine Dream and, to a lesser extent, Can and NEU!, had acquired some attention on both sides of the Atlantic, so this brand of experimental work came as less as a shock than some might might have us believe. This, however, was an established, mainstream rock "superstar".

It is worth mentioning how much of the material on 'Low' is instrumental - 'Speed Of Life' and 'Sound and Vision' (sort of !) for example. Bowie was clearly sufficiently enamoured with this type of music to take this step. It was also a sign of his confidence and comfort with the new technology which he was utilizing.

'Low' has its hard edges too, and an uncompromising side to it . Songs such as 'Breaking Glass' display no little aggression. It may be that some of the rhythmic vigour was a legacy of the 'Station to Station' album. The directness could also have been prompted by the shadow of punk, which was making a genuine impact in Britain in 1976/77.

By and large the synthesizers and the experimental features do not come across as gimmicky. Bowie and his colleagues managed to make it sound as though this was a perfectly logical new direction, but also a matter of wrapping some familiar Bowie hallmarks in dynamic new clothes.

Like its two successors, 'Low' is not quite as 'experimental', not quite as much of a departure as might be deduced from some of the comments one hears and reads. Traditional song structures and musical basics still just about predominate, although songs such as 'Always Crashing In The Same Car' and 'Be My Wife' would have been regarded as unusual by more vanilla circles in 1977.

There is a uniformity of sorts to the musical palette of 'Low'. Meaty, big drums and sinuous bass lines, overlaid by keyboards and guitars. A few years ago this recipe might have assailed my ears as 'synthetic' or 'soulless', but I know better now.

The second half of the record is where much of the interest resides. 'A New Career in A New Town' is quite radical-sounding, with the influence of Can detectable in its quieter moments. As with most of other other numbers, there is plenty going on to hold the attention.

'Warszawa' is on on another level, both emotionally and sonically, to what surrounds it. A brooding 'semi-instrumental', bearing the stamp of Brian Eno. Making clever use of 'wordless vocals', it is perhaps the centrepiece of the album. Like other parts of the album, it is distinctly 'central European' in its influences.

'Art Decade' is almost a continuation of 'Warszawa'. As for 'Weeping Wall', there once again is that irresistible, intangible pull, atmospheric in a way that even the other quasi-instrumentals cannot quite manage.

The closer, 'Subterraneans', which was apparently inspired by East Berlin, is appropriately unsettling and stark, and features a great and evocative saxophone solo. 

To be fully appreciated and understood, 'Low' has to be listened to in its entirety and 'in sequence'. Only this way can one grasp and comprehend where Bowie was in 1977, and where his thoughts were leading him. The result is a measure of his imagination, his curiosity and his restless energy. My esteem for this work has been elevated a notch.

'Heroes' commences with 'Beauty and The Beast', which in part appears to take up where Side One of 'Low' left off.  Robert Fripp's guitar contributions add something to the mix, literally.

The title track of 'Heroes' is, of course, justly celebrated and revered, and it does embody those traits which made David Bowie so important and rewarding. The song is even sometimes cited as a "hinge" uniting two eras of rock music, or at least signifying a change.

I would say that this record feels considerably less "Berlin" in character and substance than 'Low', There could be more than one reason for this perception. The overall mood is more cheerful and less foreboding, perhaps reflecting what was going on in Bowie's mind and life. Also, what instrumental fare there is on 'Heroes' is different to that which formed the backdrop to 'Low' - although 'Sense Of Doubt' tries its best!

Other instrumental passages on 'Heroes' are more purely ambient in nature; 'Moss Garden' is the main example of this. 'Neukoln' on the other hand is more avant-garde than menacing; great saxophone part, too.

Whether all this makes it a more pleasant and congenial LP to listen to is still I guess a matter of personal taste or inclination. To me, it lacks a little of the gravitas and measured mastery which were so palpable with 'Low'.

So, it is a more buoyant and 'ebullient' record than the one which came before it, but this does not equate to 'better' or 'superior'. It lacks the philosophical depth and emotional power of 'Low', notwithstanding the presence of the 'Heroes' song itself.

It would not be surprising if the initial energy which was summoned up on 'Low' could not be sustained, leading to a slightly different type of record. Who knows, Bowie may have wanted it that way....

To be frank, I have never really associated 'Lodger' with the other two, and it often seemed that the reason for its existence was that it was an album which followed those other two, and journalists and others could therefore speak in terms of a 'trilogy'. If anything, my mind links 'Station to Station' with the series more than 'Lodger',

Also in my recollections, 'Lodger' has been linked to the musical trends of 1979 and beyond, rather than connection with some thematic or stylistic continuity from before. This may be because 1979 was the year when I first became truly interested in music on anything more than a superficial level. I was too young to remember the hype and chatter about 'Heroes' or 'Low', and the profound outpourings of critics and observers would have gone completely over my head, anyway. It was interesting to see how 'Lodger', more freed from the aforementioned preconceptions, would stand up.

The 'world music' content and orientation have been cited (Middle Eastern, African), but they hardly jump out at me. If Bowie was indeed exploring such genres, it would be typical of his ceaseless search for inspiration and knowledge. It would also be characteristic if those styles were absorbed into his musical framework in a subtle manner. 'Yassassin' does have quite an impact, the first truly impressive track on the album.

After a sluggish beginning the pace and the intensity pick up; 'Red Sails' maintains some momentum, with echoes of the German group NEU!. 

'D.J' reminds me of Talking Heads, and it presages some of the material which would be found on the 'Scary Monsters....' record. The song has some conviction to it, and this goes a long way.

Some of the songs ('Look Back In Anger') are illustrative of the artist's uncanny knack of anticipating trends (or alternatively of harnessing forces already present underground). Quite a lot of 1980s music can be heard in 'Lodger', as with the two previous albums, but presented here in more digestible and compact form.

Sound-wise 'Boys Keep Swinging' starts almost like 'son-of Heroes'.  I remember this song being played heavily on British radio in that year of 1979. It bears some Bowie trademarks, the relatively simple 'rock n roll' melodic and rhythmic foundation, the enigmatic lyrics and the backing vocal arrangements and 'horns'. It was the obvious choice as a single. Traces of 'Diamond Dogs' and 'Blue Jean' can also be heard within it, methinks.

The album does rather tail off after 'Boys Keep Swinging'. The track sequencing perhaps left a little to be desired?

So, how do I sum up the Berlin Trilogy? The three works each possess their own identity. 'Low' remains the most substantial and impactful, the most radical and the one which adheres most recognisably to the Berlin 'concept' (if indeed there was a concept), in artistic terms at least. 

'Heroes' is also excellent, but appraisal may have been skewed ever so slightly by the hold which the signature tune has on our collective consciousness.

'Lodger' is good in parts, but it lacks the edge and the breadth of ideas which propel the other two records towards some kind of greatness.

Above all, these three albums show Bowie's fearlessness, his openness to new ideas, the vigour of his quest and his refusal to settle for easy options or to tread water artistically. Overrated, underrated, it is almost irrelevant. These are important collections, and they should be experienced by every serious student of rock music. Their legacy continues to be heard and felt in our music and culture in 2022. 

Nosferatu - Phantom der Nacht - 1979 film

I recently watched this film, directed by Werner Herzog, which is essentially a remake of the classic 1922 silent picture, which itself was essentially an adaptation of the Dracula story.

The visuals in this movie are lavish and impactful, and this factor is important in capturing and instilling the requisite mood.  The same could be said for Popol Vuh's atmospheric and evocative soundtrack. Their styles could have been made for this kind of subject matter, although perhaps not traditionally what one would associate with vampire stories.

This interpretation of the story appears to slant towards an examination of Dracula's personal plight, a psychological study, and looks at how he was trapped by his predicament.

Tension and anticipation are expertly constructed. Part of the interest is in discovering what kind of take Herzog applies to the tale and the traditions. Great use is made of brooding, menacing natural landscapes, and shadow and light. To my mind this picture is more "European" than other vampire movies, with an additional layer of mystique and eeriness.

The dialogue is relatively sparse, and this leaves gaps which accentuate the sense of dread and uncertainty. Klaus Kinski is supremely creepy in the title role, evoking a character who inspires fear, but also fascination and even sympathy.

With its Gothic majesty and the scenes involving rats, this movie is quite uncompromising, stark and unremitting, but highly accomplished technically and eminently watchable.

Stalker (1979 film)

Having been gripped by Solaris, I moved on to watch another of Andrei Tarkovsky's most acclaimed works, Stalker, released in 1979.

The storyline revolves around a group of men who undertake an expedition to a region known as The Zone. Within The Zone is a room which supposedly has the capacity to fulfill people's innermost desires. What follows is an absorbing and intense series of ruminations about the room and its implications and meaning, with an emotional and intellectual depth which will tax the viewer's brain, but at the same time will be immensely rewarding.

The early portion of the movie has a bleak and ascetic flavour, and this atmosphere scarcely relents over the full duration. Even more than Solaris, this picture probes the very essence of human nature and its vagaries. Matters of perception, truth, honesty and sincerity are examined. "The Room", and its presence, certainly prompt questions concerning what we truly need or want, and how our consciousness may impact on certainties, and prevent us from ascertaining when we are being manipulated, misled or exploited.

Many thoughts, some less than comforting, emerge from the film's subject matter. We chase our dreams despite the perils and the pitfalls. The existence of  "The Room", or its equivalents, drives us on - the mere thought or notion of being fulfilled. At the same time, could we be happier by neglecting some impulses, and simply live in the present moment, savouring things for their own sake?  In this respect, The Zone may be interpreted as a microcosm for how we live our lives, and what we put ourselves through, the thrill of the chase keeping us going. As The Zone is a hostile and stark place, some might see it as a very apt metaphor for the wider world.

My interpretation might be wishful thinking, but strikes a chord with some of my recent reflections. We don't appreciate what is all around us or right under our noses, or appreciate what we can derive from those things. People striving to be benevolent or altruistic miss the point, in failing to see the basics, the root issues.

The movie also contains some periods of relative inactivity, affording the watcher space to think and reflect. The dialogue warrants close scrutiny, and when I watched the film I marveled at it.

The "something to aim for" is abstract. In contemplating the notion of "free will", we must accept how much we are estranged from our true feelings and needs. It is the hope that kills us. Human nature defeats us, and it is surely preferable to live life as a series of small steps, being mindful and extracting the most from each second, minute, hour, day. We should seek to transcend our nature this way, rather than strive for the unattainable and emerge disappointed.  All easier said than done, however.

Stalker, with a suitably eerie soundtrack by Eduard Artemyev, is a gripping, if unsettling, watch.

In Through The Out Door - Led Zeppelin - album review

It seems to have become the received wisdom that In Through The Out Door, Led Zeppelin's last real studio album, released in 1979, is a downbeat postscript to their glittering career. However, a closer listen reveals that this is quite a strong record.

In revisiting the album, I found myself slightly afraid to poke my head in, for fear that I would be confronted with sad thoughts of an era coming to an end with a whimper. However, I was pleasantly surprised to discover how vibrant it is.  It is arguably more consistent and convincing than Presence, a patchy work which was redeemed in large part by the coruscating "Achilles Last Stand".

In Through The Out Door has a modernistic flavour, largely by virtue of the heavy use of keyboards and a warm and clear production. The sound points towards where Zeppelin music might have ventured during the 1980s. "In The Evening" embodies these sentiments, and in keeping with much of the album, it exudes confidence and no little ebullience.

In fact, most of the songs here have an energy, belief and confidence which belies the record's traditional reputation. "South Bound Suarez" is likeable if lightweight, and much the same might be said of "Fool In The Rain" and "Hot Dog". To me, these tracks represent an advance on the torpor which characterized parts of Presence.  There is some zest in the rootsier numbers, and the guys sound like they enjoyed making these recordings.

"Carouselambra" mines similar territory to "In The Evening", except that it is more keyboard-intensive. It reminds me somewhat of late 70s/early 80s Genesis.  My gripes are that it goes on too long, and occasionally the keyboards threaten to drown out Robert Plant's vocals. Again, this is a hint of where the band might have been heading sonically and stylistically...

"All My Love" is a strong and emotive song, very personal for Robert Plant, and in feel it anticipates some of his later solo material. My feeling is that the songs, melodies and arrangements are good. The ideas were there, and some thought and time was clearly devoted to them.

"I'm Gonna Crawl" possesses a kind of cinematic grandeur (heightened again by those keyboards), as well as bluesy charm. A classy way to round off what was to be the group's final proper album.

The impression is that Robert Plant and John Paul Jones dominated things creatively, and the relative absence of guitar pyrotechnics is conspicuous.So, on reflection, this is a fine album, albeit not a traditional Led Zeppelin one.

The Third Generation - (1979 film)

As part of my odyssey through "New German Cinema", I recently watched, for the second time to the best of my recollection, Rainer Werner Fassbinder's black/comedy/satire from 1979, The Third Generation. The movie is about an incompetent gang of terrorists who plot the kidnapping of a businessman.

I guess that this film is/was imbued with added currency by virtue of it being made not long after the German tumult of the 1970s had calmed down. Some of the scenes and plot devices are clearly based on memories which were then fresh and vivid.

The atmosphere of chaos and confusion is aggravated by the unremitting "background" noise, generally supplied by television sets.  For some people this could be distracting, not to say irritating, but I say embrace it, and your appreciation of the film will likely increase. The disorientation is all part of it, and The Third Generation is indeed sometimes an assault on the senses.

A task which confronts the viewer with this picture is ascertaining who, if anybody, the humour and satire are aimed at. Clearly to some degree Fassbinder was poking fun at "amateur" revolutionaries, with their absurd pretensions and rhetoric. Could it be that this movie actually invented and popularized many of the cliches which we now associate with the outpourings of urban guerrillas of that particular period?

The film-maker may also have been, at the same time, assailing the glibness and complacency of mainstream society, as exemplified here by the attitudes of some of the "non-terrorist" characters. It did also occur to me that this film may have been satirizing satire itself.  The scene where a few of the gang members are playing Monopoly was one of those which prompted this notion.

There is a surreal quality to the dialogue for much of the time, with mundane concerns receiving undue attention from the characters, who also constantly spout the blindingly obvious out loud. It was the incongruous nature of some of these lines which made me laugh at times.

In assessing the characters, one would have to say that they are cleverly done.  They are not totally convincing as urban guerrillas, but then again they are not wholly unconvincing either, possessing a rather nebulous, individualistic quality which complements the mood of the work.

During my recent viewing of this film, I warmed to it as it went on, being able to re-calibrate my mind to get a grasp of what the angle was.  I began to "get" it, insomuch as films such as this can be "got".  The plot attains some momentum and focus late on, and the ending is suitably enigmatic and ambiguous.

The Wall - Pink Floyd

It recently occurred to me that I had hitherto resisted the impulse to listen to Pink Floyd's album "The Wall", in its chronological entirety. Perhaps the prospect even scared me slightly. When, however this gap in my experience was rectified, I was confronted with a few thoughts and revelations.

"The Wall" is a concept album, or rock opera, which follows the protagonist "Pink" in his journey from childhood, to isolation and alienation from society, and out again, the character being based partly on Syd Barrett, partly on Roger Waters himself. My recent and "morbid" interest in this work may stem in part from my own personal experiences in recent years, and my attempts to rationalize these life changes.

One of the things which struck me right away was how comparatively little out-and-out  "prog-rock" features on the record. By necessity the "rock opera" format demands shorter songs and some vignettes to tie the whole thing together, and the relative conciseness of the pieces evokes a mainstream rock feel.  If anything, the strongest direct, or indirect, musical influence which I can detect here is from British art/glam rock from earlier in the Seventies, primarily David Bowie and even Be Bop Deluxe and Queen. Some of Roger Waters' vocals even sound rather Bowie-esque. Songs like "In The Flesh" and "The Thin Ice" carry these traits.

Having listened regularly to the famous tunes ("Another Brick In The Wall Pt.2, Comfortably Numb, Hey You, etc), interest centres more on the pieces which flesh out the album and the story.  There are some recurring motifs, like in any opera of any kind, but the self-contained material is strong, confident and diverse - songs such as "Mother" and "Goodbye Blue Sky".  Also, the better-known compositions acquire a greater pertinence in the overall context of "The Wall"; "Hey You" is a good example of this; its meaning grows more acute, and more chilling.

When closely analysed, the music and the lyrics are not quite so overblown or pretentious as I have sometimes liked to tell myself. Some people might contend that the closing stages, the denouement as it were, is a little over-the-top or extreme, and whilst I would not disagree, it is difficult to deny its impact. The sound affects and speech excerpts which punctuate the record are scarcely original, but they do succeed in augmenting the intended atmosphere.

It is intriguing to note that Floyd, a target for the vitriol and derision of the punk revolution, were in this project exploring, albeit on a more grandiose scale,  subjects which punk also sought to address, such as alienation and the deleterious effects of aspects of human society and human nature.  "The Wall" is to me another vital document of British popular culture of the second half of the 1970s, a period when economic stagnation and psychological and spiritual disenchantment went hand in hand.

I am sure that a lot of people find that aspects of "The Wall" at least strike a chord with regard to their own lives, and supply ample food for thought. I myself can identify with the alienation/isolation angle at least. The "bricks" analogy is rather well done, so the concept itself is quite coherent. The "Pink" character is himself a rock star, but it does not take much for the listener to perceive metaphors in the unreality and artificiality of rock stardom which are more universally applicable.

Few will arrive there by the same route, but I think that most of us who have endured such isolation and angst yearn to have some kind of "epiphany", which takes us back to where we were before. If life can indeed be cyclical, the peaks and troughs are awfully long and deep.

"The Wall", for all its bleakness and occasionally excessive earnestness, is an absorbing musical and social statement.

Apocalypse Now - movie review

I recently watched "Apocalypse Now", Francis Ford Coppola's 1979 movie set during the Vietnam War, starring Martin Sheen, Marlon Brando and Robert Duvall, and inspired at least in part by Joseph Conrad's "Heart Of Darkness".

Of all the classic movies of that era, probably my favourite age of cinema, it has in the past been one of the most enigmatic and elusive in terms of its ability to grip my undivided attention.

To sum up the plot, Willard (Martin Sheen) is ordered by his superiors to locate and assassinate the "renegade" Colonel Kurtz (Marlon Brando). We follow Willard as he travels, by helicopter and boat, to Kurtz's hideout over the Cambodian border.

The narration by the Willard character is very evocative, and helps to hold the whole thing together. This aspect of the movie reminds me a little of the similar device used in "Taxi Driver".

Right from the commencement of "Apocalypse Now", one is made aware of an atmosphere of ennui, exhaustion and disorientation, created by the unreality of the experience. I think that the viewer needs to embrace this dimension of "Apocalypse Now" in order to fully appreciate it.

Of course, the Kurtz character does not appear in person until near to the conclusion of the film. Along the way, however, we learn a good deal about him, his character and his history. Willard at times develops a sense of ambivalence towards what Kurtz and his actions represent. Were his actions any more reprehensible just because they were not "officially" sanctioned?

There is something about the combat and action sequences. To me, they almost intentionally look like a movie set. Were they meant to be realistic and authentic, or were they designed to convey a sense of the chaos and confusion, the surrealistic?  These scenes, paradoxically, also have a certain symmetry and order, almost as if they were choreographed.

I must confess that I did not understand the hype surrounding the character of Kilgore (Robert Duvall). I am not being contrarian when I say that his role in the story did not really grip me or engage me. I was much more interested in Willard and Kurtz. Perhaps I am missing something?

Incidentally, the most notable line of Kilgore's is, in my view, not the "obvious" one, but the one which he utters after the girl throws a grenade into a helicopter, and he accuses his enemy of being "savages". This was a bit rich from a man who orders that napalm be dropped on defenceless peasants....

For me, the film really gets into its stride when the river journey gets under way in earnest, and the personalities, quirks and fears of the crew members rise to the fore. The river journey is punctuated by some powerful, poignant and even bizarre episodes, the latter category epitomized by the "concert". Each man goes through his own trials, anguish and voyage of personal discovery. In this sense, this picture has some similarities to road movies.

The jungle passages are beautifully shot, with clever use of natural light helping to the capture the claustrophobia and the trepidation,  as well as the beauty of the environment. Indeed, the use of light and lighting throughout "Apocalypse Now" is one of the ingredients in making up the film's impact and allure.

There has been intense debate about whether this is an anti-war movie. Anti-war sentiments are not overly pushed, but one cannot fail to be affected by the brutality and callousness occasionally portrayed. The scenes concerned get the message across more effectively and eloquently than any preachy dialogue could ever do.  I got the impression, rightly or wrongly, that any disgust expressed by the protagonists was as much directed at the decadent and aimless way in which the war was being conducted on the ground, as at the war per se.

Despite what many people say, I did not think that the climactic scenes, when Marlon Brando and Dennis Hopper enter the fray, were on a separate plane from what preceded them. Again, though, lighting is used to superb effect to evoke a feeling of menace and unreality.

It is noticeable that the Willard character remains relatively phlegmatic and dispassionate throughout most of the film, certainly in comparison to the demons and anxieties plaguing those around him. Perhaps what he had witnessed had made him impervious and hardened.

The scene where Kurtz dies of course alternates with the footage of the sacrifice of the water buffalo. Plenty of scope for seeing the symbolism of the two acts occurring simultaneously.  Both acts constituting wishful thinking, and a case of missing the point, shutting out realities?

Some people I suspect view "Apocalypse Now" as nebulous, but that surely is part of the point. It leaves us feeling bewildered, empty and unsettled. Popular perception of it as a meandering behemoth of a film is misguided. Having watched it again, I would say that it is a stunning and affecting creation, if not without its flaws. If nothing else, it is the type of movie which erases any complacency and glibness from the viewer's mind concerning the subject of war.  Its quality is all the more remarkable when one remembers the numerous difficulties endured in its production.

It is a memorable film because it is different. It is what it is.