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Track List
01) Space Oddity
02) Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed
03) (Don't Sit Down)
04) Letter to Hermione
05) Cygnet Committee
06) Janine
07) An Occasional Dream
08) Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud
09) God Knows I'm Good
10) Memory of a Free Festival
01) Space Oddity
02) Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed
03) (Don't Sit Down)
04) Letter to Hermione
05) Cygnet Committee
06) Janine
07) An Occasional Dream
08) Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud
09) God Knows I'm Good
10) Memory of a Free Festival
5:16
6:12
0:43
2:36
9:36
3:25
3:01
4:51
3:21
7:11
Data Complete
80%
Total Rating
80%Total Rating
(2 users)
Back Cover
CD Art
3D Case
3D Thumb
3D Flat
3D Face
3D Spine
First Released
1969
Rock
Weird
Rock/Pop
---
Medium
Album
0 copies
Album Description
Available in:
David Bowie, auch bekannt als Space Oddity, ist das zweite Studioalbum von David Bowie. Es erschien am 4. November 1969 bei Philips Records in Großbritannien. Bei Mercury Records in den USA erschien es zugleich unter dem Titel Man of Words/Man of Music. Später wurde es von RCA Records mehrfach als Space Oddity veröffentlicht. Eine Ausgabe von 2009 kehrte wieder zum ursprünglichen Titel David Bowie zurück. Das Album gilt als Bowies erstes Rock-Album.
Das Album enthält mit Space Oddity einen von Bowies bekanntesten Songs – es wurde auf der Akustikgitarre und dem Stylophone geschrieben. Das Lied wurde von Stanley Kubricks 2001: Odyssee im Weltraum inspiriert und stellte die Figur Major Tom vor. Insgesamt gab Bowie die Orientierung an Anthony Newley auf, die seine früheren Aufnahmen ausmachten. Stattdessen wandte er sich beim Songwriting einem Stilgemisch zu, das als etwas progressiver und psychedelischer Folk Rock beschrieben werden kann und gelegentliche Einflüsse von Bob Dylan aufweist.
(Wikipedia)
User Album Review
There has always been more to Bowie’s second album than that prescient, if over-familiar, title song, as this two-disc re-mastered edition proves.
In 1969 it was released in the UK as David Bowie and in the US as Man of Words/Man of Music. Three years later, with Ziggy-mania abounding, it was re-issued with an even more pragmatic name, and soared to, um, number 17. Generations of Bowie fans have thus always perceived it as an afterthought, a pallid sibling to the golden run which followed, a runt which spawned one cosmic hit and was padded out with hippie folk songs.
How wrong you can be. It sounds extraordinary today, so flecked with genius that the wonder is not that Bowie broke big afterwards but that he didn’t sooner. Perhaps the last great 60s album, with shades of prog and sprinkles of Sgt. Pepper’s, it’s an elegy to that decade’s corroding ideals. The climactic Memory of a Free Festival perfectly captures the desire for escape from society’s shackles that coloured the times yet also seems smart enough to mock itself, knowing that bliss is, as he puts it in another lovely ballad, An Occasional Dream. In this blend of abandonment and self-awareness lay Bowie’s genius (a blend which later culminated in Young Americans, both completely fabricated and completely soulful). He never accepted that the textbook doesn’t allow you to be simultaneously arch and angst-ridden, and his innate ambivalence fuelled songs which proudly endure.
Gus Dudgeon produced the title track; Tony Visconti, who tackled the rest, had rejected it as “gimmicky”, then brought in a 50-piece orchestra for Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud. On Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed, bluesy rock hits places it didn’t previously know existed. Bowie hadn’t yet learned to self-edit, so you get guttural struts like “I’m a phallus in pigtails”, but also yearning sighs of “don’t turn your nose up / well you can if you want to, you won’t be the first or last”. There are inspired torch songs, then Cygnet Committee – a bold, ten-minute rant against Vietnam-era platitudes. It’s a dark horse in the Bowie canon: a simmering contender for his masterpiece.
The second CD gives us demos and sessions: the wry, pithy Janine, alternate mixes of the epics, and an Italian version of Space Oddity (titled Ragazzo Solo, Ragazza Sola) which coaxes awe from absurdity. His next trick was to wow the crowd, but this intricate, intriguing work should never again be underestimated.
External Album Reviews
None...
User Comments
Available in:
David Bowie, auch bekannt als Space Oddity, ist das zweite Studioalbum von David Bowie. Es erschien am 4. November 1969 bei Philips Records in Großbritannien. Bei Mercury Records in den USA erschien es zugleich unter dem Titel Man of Words/Man of Music. Später wurde es von RCA Records mehrfach als Space Oddity veröffentlicht. Eine Ausgabe von 2009 kehrte wieder zum ursprünglichen Titel David Bowie zurück. Das Album gilt als Bowies erstes Rock-Album.
Das Album enthält mit Space Oddity einen von Bowies bekanntesten Songs – es wurde auf der Akustikgitarre und dem Stylophone geschrieben. Das Lied wurde von Stanley Kubricks 2001: Odyssee im Weltraum inspiriert und stellte die Figur Major Tom vor. Insgesamt gab Bowie die Orientierung an Anthony Newley auf, die seine früheren Aufnahmen ausmachten. Stattdessen wandte er sich beim Songwriting einem Stilgemisch zu, das als etwas progressiver und psychedelischer Folk Rock beschrieben werden kann und gelegentliche Einflüsse von Bob Dylan aufweist.
(Wikipedia)
User Album Review
There has always been more to Bowie’s second album than that prescient, if over-familiar, title song, as this two-disc re-mastered edition proves.
In 1969 it was released in the UK as David Bowie and in the US as Man of Words/Man of Music. Three years later, with Ziggy-mania abounding, it was re-issued with an even more pragmatic name, and soared to, um, number 17. Generations of Bowie fans have thus always perceived it as an afterthought, a pallid sibling to the golden run which followed, a runt which spawned one cosmic hit and was padded out with hippie folk songs.
How wrong you can be. It sounds extraordinary today, so flecked with genius that the wonder is not that Bowie broke big afterwards but that he didn’t sooner. Perhaps the last great 60s album, with shades of prog and sprinkles of Sgt. Pepper’s, it’s an elegy to that decade’s corroding ideals. The climactic Memory of a Free Festival perfectly captures the desire for escape from society’s shackles that coloured the times yet also seems smart enough to mock itself, knowing that bliss is, as he puts it in another lovely ballad, An Occasional Dream. In this blend of abandonment and self-awareness lay Bowie’s genius (a blend which later culminated in Young Americans, both completely fabricated and completely soulful). He never accepted that the textbook doesn’t allow you to be simultaneously arch and angst-ridden, and his innate ambivalence fuelled songs which proudly endure.
Gus Dudgeon produced the title track; Tony Visconti, who tackled the rest, had rejected it as “gimmicky”, then brought in a 50-piece orchestra for Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud. On Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed, bluesy rock hits places it didn’t previously know existed. Bowie hadn’t yet learned to self-edit, so you get guttural struts like “I’m a phallus in pigtails”, but also yearning sighs of “don’t turn your nose up / well you can if you want to, you won’t be the first or last”. There are inspired torch songs, then Cygnet Committee – a bold, ten-minute rant against Vietnam-era platitudes. It’s a dark horse in the Bowie canon: a simmering contender for his masterpiece.
The second CD gives us demos and sessions: the wry, pithy Janine, alternate mixes of the epics, and an Italian version of Space Oddity (titled Ragazzo Solo, Ragazza Sola) which coaxes awe from absurdity. His next trick was to wow the crowd, but this intricate, intriguing work should never again be underestimated.
External Album Reviews
None...
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