The David Bowie Albums Ranked
“Holy holy holy shit. David Bowie. Fuck. One of the immortals has passed.”
That’s what I tweeted on January 11, 2016. I remember the sentiment well. Although I was not yet the David Bowie aficionado I can maybe now claim to be, the death of the icon left me feeling like the world was a little less special. Because that’s what Bowie was: special. His music was from another world, and yet wholly in touch with humanity. Perhaps it was because Bowie was ultimately just a big fanboy. “I’m a synthesist,” he said, and whether he was emulating his folk rock heroes in the mid-60s, or catapulting glam rock into the mainstream, or doing a spin on “plastic soul,” or keeping up with the Joneses and surpassing them in the budding genre of house music, David Bowie brought his whole weight of musical ingenuity and insightful strangeness to bear. Like any artist, he had his highs and lows, but I don’t think anyone could claim even Bowie’s worst albums were boring.
And so, here I am to rank and explore what I consider to be Bowie’s 26 “canonical” albums, one off from the commonly accepted 25. That’s because I include his full soundtrack album THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA, which he created for the television movie of the same name. It stands as a full-fledged release from Bowie, as he himself claimed, as opposed to the more limited input on, say, LABYRINTH (1986). I did listen to the latter to get a full scope of Bowie’s career, even if it’s not included in these rankings, as I did with the EPs BAAL (1982), THE NEXT DAY EXTRA (2013), and NO PLAN (2017), as well as the compilation EARLY ON (1964–1966) [1991]. The latter collected the singles Bowie released as Davie Jones (which he changed to Bowie due to the name’s proximity to Davy Jones of the Monkees) with a number of different bands. These are all interesting artifacts scattered across an incredible 52-year recording career.
EDIT: Added TOY to the list.
#27 — TOY (2022)
Favorite track: “Can’t Help Thinking About Me”
TOY, since it was recorded in 2000, has long been an object of desire for Bowie completionists. The unfinished album of new songs and re-recordings of Bowie’s early singles was shelved and gave way to HEATHEN. Bootleg versions of the record have circulated for years, but in 2021, its tracks were included on the box set BRILLIANT ADVENTURE (1992–2001) [2021]. And now, in 2022, six years after BLACKSTAR and Bowie’s death, TOY has received its own official, standalone release. The long-awaited moment, however, is not a great cause for celebration. The much discussed ethics around posthumous releases are always interesting (although to some extent, I believe Bowie planned some of them), and with TOY, I find there may have been a justification to Bowie’s sidelining of the project. That is not to say that TOY is a bad album; none of Bowie’s records are. But it is a, shall we say, not impressive work. It fits into, in some ways, the musician’s millennial style, but it also doesn’t quite lean enough into an experimental or pop-rock angle. The record carries some of Bowie’s most grating songs (although in the case of “Can’t Help Thinking About Me,” that turns into a kind of catchiness), and also some of his most forgettable. TOY is ultimately a welcome batch of new-ish Bowie songs, however, giving insight into one of the many career “eras” of the man and serving as a comprehensive, crafted album experience, even if it was one Bowie apparently didn’t think good enough for release.
#26 — HEATHEN (2002)
Favorite track: “Everyone Says ‘Hi’”
But of course, I always have to start with the least incredible aspects of those incredible careers with these pieces. I’ve got to build to something, right? Anyways, yes, HEATHEN is Bowie’s “worst” album. Although I said none of Bowie’s albums were boring, the few albums at the bottom of this list come the closest to a sort of malaise. “Everyone Says ‘Hi’” is a respectable, mellow rock song, and while HEATHEN was recognized as Bowie’s “9/11 response album,” nothing in it feels rich enough to embody the complexity of what that would entail. I believe HEATHEN, which was born from the unfinished TOY album, was one of the deciding factors that sent Bowie into semi-retirement for ten years.
#25 — NEVER LET ME DOWN (1987)
Favorite track: “Never Let Me Down”
And while it didn’t send him into retirement, NEVER LET ME DOWN also caused Bowie to leave something behind. After chasing the ghost of LET’S DANCE’s success throughout the ’80s, a period many critics now consider the artist’s fallow period, Bowie created this much maligned record. I think it’s widely considered one of Bowie’s worst (if not the worst) from what I can gather, and as is clear, I nearly agree. I don’t think any artists from the ’60s or ’70s escaped the ’80s without at least a couple of embarrassing records, but Bowie transcended trends to the point that NEVER LET ME DOWN is a little more than tolerable. In fact, its title track is pretty good. But Bowie couldn’t quite escape the musical tropes of the ’80s, and much of the rest of the album is mired in them. It speaks to Bowie’s innate musical ability, then, that NEVER LET ME DOWN ultimately isn’t a slog. However, it, in addition to the massively expensive and incredibly theatrical Glass Spider tour, disillusioned Bowie in regards to his own artistic direction, and he formed the band Tin Machine to ultimately create two records and get back to his rock roots. The albums are pretty good, but they aren’t considered in this piece.
#24 — HOURS (1999)
Favorite track: “Thursday’s Child”
By the end of the ’90s, Bowie was so invested in turn-of-the-millennium and digital philosophy, and much of his comments at the time were actually quite prescient. Although the concept album 1. OUTSIDE never started the literal saga Bowie and collaborator Brian Eno envisioned, HOURS is kind of the third in a trilogy heralded by that album. With HOURS, Bowie explored a dreamy vision of the changing world, in association with the game that he appeared in, OMIKRON: THE NOMAD SOUL (1999). The result, clearly, isn’t one of Bowie’s best, but it’s not an unappetizing release. “Thursday’s Child,” in particular, slithered in and out of my consciousness, and a few other tracks, like “Seven” and “The Pretty Things Are Going to Hell” are interesting, if not ultimately super successful.
#23 — THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA (1993)
Favorite track: “Strangers When We Meet”
While it’s technically a soundtrack album, only the title song from THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA appeared in its source visual companion. For many years, it was totally overlooked as a bonafide Bowie album, which he himself always claimed it was. In fact, he believed it so much that he included the record’s best song, “Strangers When We Meet,” on the next “real” Bowie album, 1. OUTSIDE, and it was the sole track outside the concept’s conceit. It was the start of a practice throughout the ’90s and early 2000s, where Bowie would try to revive and re-record a number of his own songs that he thought deserved more attention. And the desire was understandable. While the ’90s weren’t his best years, they sure came close, as Bowie released an eclectic array of experiments that, while not as rife with hooks as his best ’70s records, were forward-thinking in their own way. THE BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA, clearly, isn’t up to par with even most of the ’90s albums, but it’s a slinky, cool little record, and it deserves more attention.
#22 — TONIGHT (1984)
Favorite track: “Loving the Alien”
Along with NEVER LET ME DOWN, TONIGHT is often cited as Bowie’s worst album. I don’t actually know which comes up more, I wasn’t exactly conducting a comprehensive survey in preparation for this piece, but in any event, TONIGHT is certainly not beloved. Released right on the heels of LET’S DANCE, Bowie’s mega-hit album that brought in a whole new wave of fans for the ’80s, TONIGHT may be the musician’s most rote record. Although Bowie worked within styles and sounds across his numerous “eras,” rarely did he attempt to directly recreate something from the record before. But that’s exactly what he did with TONIGHT, which ends up feeling like the scraps of LET’S DANCE. “Loving the Alien” is in fact a good song, but it sounds like a retread of “China Girl.” The prevalence of cover songs, including more Iggy Pop songs (did one artist cover as much of their friend’s songs across their career as Bowie did with Iggy?), may have been a grasp for straws, a result of the need for “new” material fast to satisfy a new commercial success. Nevertheless, TONIGHT is not nearly as bad as some of the vitriol would suggest, but it’s also a minor Bowie work.
#21 — STATION TO STATION (1976)
Favorite track: “TVC15”
STATION TO STATION was a transitional album for David Bowie. Released just before the commencement of the worshiped “Berlin Trilogy,” the record was also the home of a new Bowie character, the acrimonious Thin White Duke. Fueled by cocaine and the first of a couple “post-success valleys,” Bowie put together a simultaneously slightly less experimental and certainly less accessible record than anything to come from the Berlin Trilogy. I just don’t fully vibe with the album, and if it sounds like I’m being extremely critical, it’s also within the context of Bowie’s other releases from the ’70s, certainly his best decade. “TVC15” is a quirky and groovy track, far and away the album’s best, but alongside just five other songs, one of which is the ten-minute-long title track, it’s not the greatest achievement. STATION TO STATION remains a curio to me, a significant accomplishment just outside the realm of greatness.
#20 — DAVID BOWIE (1967)
Favorite track: “Love You Till Tuesday”
The first of two self-titled records released just two years apart at the end of the ’60s, this 1967 release was David Bowie’s debut album. I love going back and listening to the early careers that, at first blush, don’t contain the hallmarks we come to know from an artist. Because DAVID BOWIE feels a little too…silly, or whimsical, to be something from the man who was able to channel that kind of energy into something more elevated. And yet Ziggy Stardust is here, as is the elocution and expression the world would come to expect of David Bowie. “Love You Till Tuesday,” maybe, technically, Bowie’s biggest hit at the time, wasn’t enough to carry the album, and he wallowed in some music industry troubles for a couple years before he would get another shot. The 1967 DAVID BOWIE is, at the end of the day, a fun listen.
#19 — DAVID BOWIE (1969)
Favorite track: “Space Oddity”
And by 1969, David Bowie, and his newest self-titled album, were even more fun. This DAVID BOWIE upped the folk rock sensibilities of its predecessor into more experimental atmosphere, as demonstrated by the hit “Space Oddity,” the record’s best song. The experimentation may have even resulted in a fewer number of out-and-out good songs than the 1967 album could boast, but taken as a whole, the 1969 DAVID BOWIE is a more cohesive and bold artistic statement, even before taking into account the all-time greatness of “Space Oddity.”
#18–1. OUTSIDE (1995)
Favorite tracks: “I Have Not Been to Oxford Town”
A lot of bold claims were made about 1. OUTSIDE (subtitled THE NATHAN ADLER DIARIES: A HYPER-CYCLE), in regards to the continuation of its narrative across a number of albums throughout the rest of the ’90s and the profundity of its concept. I’m ultimately not a huge concept album guy…unless the “concept” is just a cohesion of great sonic sensibilities. And in that context, 1. OUTSIDE succeeds. This is one of the most successful of David Bowie’s most experimental albums; perhaps that includes half or more of his discography, but the fact remains that 1. OUTSIDE maybe shouldn’t be as accessible as it is. This is not conventional pop or rock or jazz or electronic music, and yet it succeeds in all of those spheres. “I Have Not Been to Oxford Town” is a haunting, catchy tune that anchors the roughly midway point of the 74-minute album, Bowie’s longest by far. Apparently, Eno had talked with Bowie about reviving the Nathan Adler concept for a new album shortly before his death. I would, of course, have loved to see more music from Bowie in any form, but maybe it’s for the best that his passionate fascination with digital life was encapsulated within OUTSIDE, the first part of a nonexistent series.
#17 — BLACKSTAR (2016)
Favorite track: “Blackstar”
I don’t know if BLACKSTAR being this low on the list is out of step with critical consensus. I suppose I really don’t care, as most don’t really care about my opinion on the matter either. But I acknowledge this outside opinion because, as Bowie’s last album (released just two days before he died), BLACKSTAR has been evaluated in a million different permutations. And it all comes back to the fact that BLACKSTAR is an album about death. It is true that Bowie knew he was dying, and this acknowledgement does mostly define the record, but it isn’t depressing, nor is it a pithy display of courage. No, BLACKSTAR is something all the more complex than that, and I think the record, more than any other from Bowie’s output, defies critical consensus. There is nothing to be “consented” to here; Bowie aired his soul, here, for the record, sure, but for himself. It’s impossible not to be affected by BLACKSTAR, especially its epic title track, but it’s also not something to be enjoyed at any given time, at least not by me. And considering I build these lists based on what I would like to experience most any time if prompted, it has to slip to middling territory. But make no bones about it, this is an important record.
#16 — SCARY MONSTERS (AND SUPER CREEPS) [1980]
Favorite track: “Fashion”
The other end of the Berlin Trilogy sandwich (its complement being STATION TO STATION), SCARY MONSTERS (AND SUPER CREEPS) was constantly used as a benchmark for the rest of Bowie’s career. “This is his best album since SCARY MONSTERS,” or some other paraphrase, was a sentiment I saw come up a lot as I read and listened for this piece. With such a claim, SCARY MONSTERS, then, would be expected to be a final, exquisite tome or something. And while it was not that, SCARY MONSTERS was still a trim, slightly commercially conscious extension of Bowie’s experiences with the Berlin Trilogy. For some reason, “Fashion” plays to me like a proto-”Let’s Dance,” but the rest of the record is not as…streamlined as that. Honestly, it’s hard for me to pin down how I feel about SCARY MONSTERS (AND SUPER CREEPS). It’s a fun record, but it’s also kind of challenging, and I guess that describes a bulk of Bowie’s work. Its fun just never gets too fun, and its challenges stay a little too challenging.
#15 — BLACK TIE WHITE NOISE (1993)
Favorite track: “I Know It’s Gonna Happen Someday”
While still technically within the “middling” range of these 26 David Bowie albums, I was much more impressed with BLACK TIE WHITE NOISE when revisiting it for this piece. As the return to Bowie’s solo career after NEVER LET ME DOWN and six years (although he had made his second and final album with Tin Machine in 1991), BLACK TIE WHITE NOISE was an important album that began Bowie’s overt synthesis of the new style of electronic music, specifically house, and his brand of pop and rock. When I first listened to BLACK TIE WHITE NOISE, I was relatively unimpressed with it. But listening to it now, I think it successfully tackles the then-new “it” sound without being grounded in 1993. His cover of Morrissey’s “I Know It’s Gonna Happen Someday,” especially, sounds like it could have come from one of his ’70s albums, or even the ones he put out later in the ’90s or early 2000s. It stands to reason, perhaps, since the song is kind of an ode to Bowie himself. In any event, BLACK TIE WHITE NOISE may be ultimately uneven, with “I Know It’s Gonna Happen Someday” existing outside the house music conceit and experimentation, but those experiments (such as “The Wedding” and “Pallas Athena”) are individually successful. BLACK TIE WHITE NOISE is much better than I gave it credit for.
#14 — EARTHLING (1997)
Favorite track: “I’m Afraid of Americans”
The second in another, unofficial David Bowie trilogy I’m dubbing the “Digital Trilogy” (which included 1. OUTSIDE and HOURS), EARTHLING ended up being a similar experience to BLACK TIE WHITE NOISE for me. More divorced from Bowie’s earlier rock innovations, EARTHLING upped the connection to contemporary electronic acts and hard rock fusion. Bowie definitely listened to some Nine Inch Nails for this album, but it should be mentioned again, that Bowie was perhaps the greatest musical chameleon of his age. He didn’t steal anything; as he claimed, he synthesized. Sure, you can understand the influence of Nine Inch Nails in “I’m Afraid of Americans,” especially, but insofar as anyone is influenced by anything. Bowie, by the ’90s, became even more of a cultural commentator than before; before that decade, his music bent more inward even as it shaped the world outside. EARTHLING is a shining example of that new trend, because Bowie’s industrial rock is better than everyone else’s.
#13 — REALITY (2003)
Favorite track: “The Loneliest Guy”
Even though it was his last album before a ten-year hiatus, and even though it received pretty widespread positive reviews, I feel like REALITY is slept on, even though it does have godawful cover art. Although it was separated from THE NEXT DAY by a decade, and then BLACKSTAR by 13 years, REALITY neatly falls into the concept of “late career” work from esteemed, long-running, and prolific artists. Somehow, this is the case even though HEATHEN, released just one year earlier, does not fit this feeling. It’s as if Bowie let his excitement for the 2000s settle in, heralded as they were by the Bush era in America, and he grew tired and acknowledged the “REALITY” around him. “The Loneliest Guy” is a tell in this vein, and a wonderfully woeful and affecting song. There are some really great songs on REALITY, like “Fall Dog Bombs the Moon,” “Bring Me the Disco King,” and “New Killer Star,” but I mostly find REALITY so compelling because of the amorphous yet powerful impression it left on me.
#12 — LET’S DANCE (1983)
Favorite track: “China Girl”
For some reason, I’m fascinated in examining the amount of time between releases from an artist, and although Bowie always had live albums and soundtracks and little EPs floating around, the space between SCARY MONSTERS (1980) and LET’S DANCE (1983), only three years, was the longest between Bowie albums up to that point. Otherwise, he had been turning out an ever-increasingly praised series of albums for a decade. So it’s really interesting that Bowie came out of his longest hiatus yet to produce what would come to be one of his biggest successes, and one that would haunt him for the rest of the ’80s. In spite of critical dismissal, LET’S DANCE is nevertheless a really good album. Bowie tapped into ’80s new wave and made something richer, dirtier, and yet somehow more fun than his contemporaries. “China Girl,” a version of a song Bowie had co-written with Iggy Pop for Iggy’s THE IDIOT (1977), is the best example of that on the record. But the title track? Guys? It’s good. “Let’s Dance” is a good time. And the same can be said for the rest of the album.
#11 — LOW (1977)
Favorite track: “Sound and Vision”
And yet I cannot deny the mythology of the Berlin Trilogy. Ironically, the bulk of the first installment, LOW, was recorded in France. But this trilogy came to be so named because of Bowie’s flight from Los Angeles and crippling drug addiction to West Berlin, where he experienced a rejuvenation of artistic inspiration that yielded three albums often considered some of the best of the period, and rock music in general. All three of these albums were also made in tandem with Brian Eno and producer Tony Visconti, and overlapped with the production of Iggy Pop’s lesser-known (than Bowie’s albums) but still incredible THE IDIOT and LUST FOR LIFE (1977). If LOW is less successful than its successors, it’s because of it’s more fragmented nature. For side one of the record, Bowie and his collaborators produced solid little “avant-pop” tracks like “Sound and Vision.” And for side two, they created more rambly, instrumental tracks that clearly showcases Eno’s involvement and ambient inclinations. Still, LOW ends up being a lasting aural artifact; it may have fewer standout tracks than albums lower on this list, but it is a tremendous and immersive listen all the way through.
#10 — “HEROES” (1977)
Favorite track: “‘Heroes’”
But the Berlin Trilogy just kept getting better. “HEROES,” released the same year as LOW, softened its predecessor’s avant-garde leanings with stronger pop hooks. The most significant result is the title track, one of my favorite Bowie songs, but another outcome is a more cohesive bridge between the more “conventional” side one and the more experimental side two. Maybe there should be more to be said about “HEROES,” but I liken the experience of listening to it, and indeed the albums to come on this list, to slipping into a warm bath, not because they are “easy listening” records, but because they are so expertly crafted that you can’t help but feel relaxed by some of the surest hands to produce rock music.
#9 — THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD (1970)
Favorite track: “The Width of a Circle”
In spite of “Space Oddity’s” eventual placement in car commercials and the like, DAVID BOWIE (1969) did not set the world on fire, nor did its follow-up, necessarily. But THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD raised Bowie’s profile significantly, taking another step towards the mega-stardom that Ziggy Stardust afforded him. And perhaps it did so because it broke tradition with the ’60s spirit present on Bowie’s previous albums, ironically already almost out of touch even within the end of the decade. With THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD, Bowie made his hard rock album, of a kind with Black Sabbath’s debut, released the same year. THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD is a wholly engaging listen on a whole different level than even Bowie’s best. There are principles here that would show up on the next few records, but the album has stood the test of time as one of Bowie’s most unique. Perhaps some of its riffs aren’t as timeless, but that’s why it retains its power and affectation. Bowie never made something quite like THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD again.
#8 — DIAMOND DOGS (1974)
Favorite track: “Rebel Rebel”
I struggled with where to place DIAMOND DOGS. In spite of the character-centric predecessors ZIGGY STARDUST and ALADDIN SANE, DIAMOND DOGS was really Bowie’s first full-blown attempt at a concept album, a concept which he himself helped create in retrospect with ZIGGY. An approximation of a NINETEEN EIGHTY-FOUR (1949) adaptation, DIAMOND DOGS doesn’t exactly hit quite the same as even THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD. That’s not to mention its terrible cover art, which may be a blasphemous statement; it has a partner in REALITY as Bowie’s worst album covers. Ultimately, though, I must admit DIAMOND DOGS is an incredibly rich, rewarding listen that, as the best concept albums do, communicates its story with strong musical progression and themes, rather than a stage musical sensibility of exposition and storytelling. “Diamond Dogs” is a serious earworm and “Rebel Rebel” is one of Bowie’s best songs, but I can’t seem to claim that any of the rest of the album’s songs are top-tier. And yet, here is DIAMOND DOGS at #8. Its collective energy is insidious.
#7 — THE NEXT DAY (2013)
Favorite track: “Valentine’s Day”
If it hadn’t been for BLACKSTAR being, like, actually his last album, a lot of the sounds and themes explored on THE NEXT DAY could have played like a final artistic statement from David Bowie. His two 2010s albums speak to a musical legend’s place in a post-modern world that is constantly reassessing its pop culture past, a history in which Bowie himself figured quite prominently. And then he just comes out of nowhere, ten years after his last album, and surprises everyone with a vital, powerful rock album with an ear for modern pop and enough of a detachment from it so as to not make THE NEXT DAY appear like the product of replication. Bowie was too old for that shit, man. “Valentine’s Day” almost makes me cry.
#6 — PIN UPS (1973)
Favorite track: “Here Comes the Night”
A cover album, this high on a list of albums by one of the most original musicians to ever do it? That’s right. PIN UPS is really good. Bowie’s tribute to the ’60s and the bands that made them (and him) is lively, fun, and just plain entertaining. It’s not radical, it’s not groundbreaking, but damn it if I don’t keep coming back to PIN UPS and its legion of great renditions. Bowie’s version of “Here Comes the Night” is groovy and strong, as are “Rosalyn” and “Friday on My Mind,” on nearly the same level.
#5 — LODGER (1979)
Favorite track: “Yassassin — Turkish For: Long Live”
I may have mentioned that LODGER’s two predecessors in the Berlin Trilogy, LOW and “HEROES,” were kind of incongruous between side one and two, varying from poppy yet avant-garde tracks to experimental instrumentals. Well, LODGER is somehow more eclectic yet successful. “Yassassin” is one of my favorite Bowie songs, and it’s like a…Turkish reggae song? It’s so weird, scattered as it is among songs like “Fantastic Voyage” and “DJ.” But somehow, the whole of LODGER coheres as an incredible retrospective of Bowie’s career throughout the ’70s, an album that offers something new to appreciate every time you listen to it.
#4 — ALADDIN SANE (1973)
Favorite track: “Panic in Detroit”
As the follow up to ZIGGY STARDUST, ALADDIN SANE was a big deal. Not only did Bowie shed the character that gave him such an edge in the glam rock scene, but he took on a new one and a little bit of a rougher sound (influenced by his American tour). Each of the tracks was based on different experiences in different cities across the good ol’ USA. You can probably guess what inspired “Panic in Detroit,” but if you listen to it, you’ll also find ALADDIN SANE’s best track. The rest of the album covers so much ground it’s hard to believe that Bowie produced this immediately after ZIGGY STARDUST and a major American tour. “Cracked Actor” is an all-time great, and “The Prettiest Star” and “The Jean Genie” are kind of warped, sensual experiences. The whole album feels like the dark side of the more whimsical ZIGGY STARDUST, which didn’t exactly play like an innocent fairy tale. In the hall of “follow ups to some of the best/most important albums of all time,” ALADDIN SANE deserves a special commendation.
#3 — YOUNG AMERICANS (1975)
Favorite track: “Young Americans”
After DIAMOND DOGS, YOUNG AMERICANS could have been a more conventional “plastic soul” record from a white British guy. And while it was a plastic soul record from a white British guy, YOUNG AMERICANS was not conventional in its ultimate appeal. Its title track is one of my favorite Bowie songs, an absolutely moving soul song with incredible backing vocals, and it kicks off a series of absolutely pleasing tracks. I’ve used the words “fun” and “challenging” to illustrate the Bowie dichotomy of, maybe, the old “one for them, one for me” maxim you find in the film industry, but with YOUNG AMERICANS, Bowie got his cake and ate it too. It’s not experimental in the way of the Berlin Trilogy or something, but after the glam rock ramp up of the past half a decade, Bowie briefly reinvented himself and made a singularly soulful album.
#2 — HUNKY DORY (1971)
Favorite track: “Life on Mars?”
“Changes” is just one of those songs, you know? “Oh! You Pretty Things” has some of the most electrifying melodies I’ve ever heard in my life. And “Life on Mars?,” fittingly, takes me to another world. And these phenomenal tracks are joined by eight more to add up to an album nearly like no other. HUNKY DORY, sure, was Bowie on the precipice of ZIGGY STARDUST, but it’s so much more than that. In its own way, it marks a transition from the ’60s to the ’70s, taking the folksy sound heard on Bowie’s two self-titled albums and slyly integrating it into glam rock. Because what was Bowie if not a synthesist, one of the most successful to the point that the materials he was synthesizing refracted into wholly original creations?
#1 — THE RISE AND FALL OF ZIGGY STARDUST AND THE SPIDERS FROM MARS (1972)
Favorite track: “Starman”
But if originality were the only mark of appeal for an artist, there would be many more that I’d think of as highly as Bowie. His skill, however, and this cannot get lost in the thousands of words I’ve written about him here, was that he wrote such good music. And the best he ever wrote was presented on THE RISE AND FALL OF ZIGGY STARDUST AND THE SPIDERS FROM MARS. Hyperbole matches the very nature of this record, this silly, aspirational album with songs every one has heard a million times over. Just how radical this record was should not be obscured, however, and I think it isn’t if you sit down and listen to the entirety of ZIGGY STARDUST, in one sitting, rather than through its biggest hits in the supermarket or on the radio in your car. “Starman” is phenomenal, sure, it’s my single favorite track from the album, but the power of THE RISE AND FALL OF ZIGGY STARDUST AND THE SPIDERS FROM MARS is hearing that whole story told to you, musically and intuitively. David Bowie was many things (and people) in his life and career, and Ziggy Stardust was just one of them. But what he produced within that persona shines the brightest.
