David Bowie 26: Black Tie White Noise

Part of Bowie’s frustration with EMI was that they kept hoping he’d do another Let’s Dance. Considering the next two albums he’d given them both tried to be commercial and failed, they should have known it was unlikely to happen. (Tin Machine didn’t help either, apparently.)

So it was somewhat alarming that ten years after Let’s Dance, he inaugurated his signing to a new label by reuniting with that album’s producer, Nile Rodgers, for Black Tie White Noise, a disjointed collection of barely-there songs with odd connotations. Bookended by music written for his wedding to the model Iman, much of the album veered close to the R&B dance remix scene, even in such misguided covers as Cream’s “I Feel Free”. (He must not have heard Belinda Carlisle’s version.) At least Morrissey’s “I Know It’s Gonna Happen Someday” was tackled somewhat straight, if winkingly, and “Nite Flights” was an uncanny and reverent interpretation of the obscure Scott Walker original. Sung with a weird accent, “Don’t Let Me Down And Down” was apparently a song by an Indonesian singer that was introduced to Bowie’s ears by his new bride, so there’s another sentimental aspect.

Mick Ronson put in one of his last appearances before his death, playing inaudible lead guitar on “I Feel Free”, as did Al B. Sure!, duetting on the title track (supposedly inspired by the previous year’s riots in LA) before his career went the same way. Another special guest was jazz trumpeter Lester Bowie, likely chosen for his prowess as for his name, who features throughout the album, and most pointedly on the instrumental “Looking For Lester”.

“You’ve Been Around” stands out as okay, possibly due to its placement near the start of the disc, but “Pallas Athena” is a mindless groove based around the same beats as every other track and the repeated sampled assertion that “God is on top of it.” With an annoying horn riff, “Miracle Goodnight” sounds like something Prince would reject. With the possible exception of the ultra-catchy “Jump They Say” (said to be a tribute to his schizophrenic half-brother who had committed suicide eight years previous) and the two versions of “The Wedding” (one instrumental, one vocal), the album is simply unmemorable at best, but grating if you’re not into dance music.

But even the people who were barely cared, and then the label that released it—his second in as many years—went under too, sending Black Tie White Noise out of print. It was re-released ten years later with a bonus CD including “Lucy Can’t Dance”, which was a bonus track on the original CD, “Real Cool World” from a forgotten movie soundtrack, and a pile of remixes, as if the album itself didn’t have enough beats on it, plus a bonus DVD documentary. Hindsight has not improved it in the slightest.

David Bowie Black Tie White Noise (1993)—1½
2003 10th Anniversary Edition: same as 1993, plus 11 extra tracks (and minus 1 track) and DVD