telling lies : the buddha of suburbia print archive

the buddha of suburbia

4 stars

there'll be the odd debate about whether this is a kosher david bowie album. as the soundtrack to hanif kureishi's bbc2 series (shown throughout november), it's not exactly the full-scale follow-up to black tie white noise. but it's full of david bowie songs, which pin-ups wasn't for a start, and it's got fewer instrumentals than low, so it looks like we might be in business.

david bowie and collaborator erdal kizilcay-who was on the sound + vision tour-have composed eight wildly different pieces here (the title track re-appears twice, once retitled strangers when we meet, and again in a rock mix at the end to round the tally up to a reasonable hour or so). whack them all together and they add up to an intriguing little album. the moods vary from suburban malaise- which, you may be delighted to know, he writes about uncannily like damon albarn of blur-through druggy tranquillity to outright spookiness.

the title track is a swishy ballad set in south london amid teenage dreams, frustration and quotes from space oddity and all the madmen; it's very evocative of the '70s, and very aware of being a david bowie song. a kind of historical double-bluff, it's probably his best song since loving the alien. sex and the church is its polar opposite: a moody little shuffle with deadpan electronic vocal tricks a la kraftwerk's pocket calculator.

of the three instrumentals, the mysteries is semi-pastoral english space music, like erik satie meets the orb, while ian fish uk heir really unsettles: a muted, haunting, harold budd-like drone with crackling static all over it. it sounds like a secular incantation on pre-war vinyl. david bowie lightweights won't want to go anywhere near it.

back in the vocal zone, bleed like a craze, dad (ooh dear) is funked-up like let's dance, with david bowie spouting what could be the clues to that day's guardian crossword over the top. over in electropop land, dead against it is a breezy early '80s thing, while untitled number 1 suggests a speeded-up warszawa cross-fertilised with brian eno's no one receiving, proving the berliner side of david bowie's brain has yet to be fully lobotomised.

all this and the vocal style that inspired brett anderson. if the key is ambience, then it's an ambience of danger and tension. for the purposes of hanif kureishi's series, david bowie's music walks a knife-edge once again.

david cavanagh

5 stars

between the back-from-the-dead black tie white noise and the full-flung riskiness of 1. outside and earthling came this 1994 soundtrack to a bbc hanif kureishi adaptation. perfectly suited to the novel's subject matter - 1970s' south london backdrop, bisexuality, punk, alienation and survivalism - bowie did what he does best, shuffling key elements of times past into contemporanity. almost wholly assisted by multi-instrumentalist erdal kizilcay, bowie's success rate is high: the sashaying, poignant title track (quotes from space oddity and all the madmen) may be his best track of the '90s; the mysteries, ian fish and uk heir's queasy ambience stands up to the berlin-era instrumentals; south horizon pitches mike garson's tinkly-mad piano over a jazz-funk groove, bleed like a craze dad is feisty, lock-groove rock-funk and dead against it is a restrained, drony little pop nugget in lodger mode. arguably bowie's most satisfying album this decade.

martin aston



	the buddha of suburbia :: q 4 stars there'll be the odd debate about whether this is a kosher david bowie album. as the soundtrack to hanif kureishi's bbc2 series (shown throughout november), it's not exactly the full-scale follow-up to black tie white noise. but it's full of david bowie songs, which pin-ups wasn't for a start, and it's got fewer instrumentals than low, so it looks like we might be in business. david bowie and collaborator erdal kizilcay-who was on the sound + vision tour-have composed eight wildly different pieces here (the title track re-appears twice, once retitled strangers when we meet, and again in a rock mix at the end to round the tally up to a reasonable hour or so). whack them all together and they add up to an intriguing little album. the moods vary from suburban malaise- which, you may be delighted to know, he writes about uncannily like damon albarn of blur-through druggy tranquillity to outright spookiness. the title track is a swishy ballad set in south london amid teenage dreams, frustration and quotes from space oddity and all the madmen; it's very evocative of the '70s, and very aware of being a david bowie song. a kind of historical double-bluff, it's probably his best song since loving the alien. sex and the church is its polar opposite: a moody little shuffle with deadpan electronic vocal tricks a la kraftwerk's pocket calculator. of the three instrumentals, the mysteries is semi-pastoral english space music, like erik satie meets the orb, while ian fish uk heir really unsettles: a muted, haunting, harold budd-like drone with crackling static all over it. it sounds like a secular incantation on pre-war vinyl. david bowie lightweights won't want to go anywhere near it. back in the vocal zone, bleed like a craze, dad (ooh dear) is funked-up like let's dance, with david bowie spouting what could be the clues to that day's guardian crossword over the top. over in electropop land, dead against it is a breezy early '80s thing, while untitled number 1 suggests a speeded-up warszawa cross-fertilised with brian eno's no one receiving, proving the berliner side of david bowie's brain has yet to be fully lobotomised. all this and the vocal style that inspired brett anderson. if the key is ambience, then it's an ambience of danger and tension. for the purposes of hanif kureishi's series, david bowie's music walks a knife-edge once again. david cavanagh :: q 5 stars between the back-from-the-dead black tie white noise and the full-flung riskiness of 1. outside and earthling came this 1994 soundtrack to a bbc hanif kureishi adaptation. perfectly suited to the novel's subject matter - 1970s' south london backdrop, bisexuality, punk, alienation and survivalism - bowie did what he does best, shuffling key elements of times past into contemporanity. almost wholly assisted by multi-instrumentalist erdal kizilcay, bowie's success rate is high: the sashaying, poignant title track (quotes from space oddity and all the madmen) may be his best track of the '90s; the mysteries, ian fish and uk heir's queasy ambience stands up to the berlin-era instrumentals; south horizon pitches mike garson's tinkly-mad piano over a jazz-funk groove, bleed like a craze dad is feisty, lock-groove rock-funk and dead against it is a restrained, drony little pop nugget in lodger mode. arguably bowie's most satisfying album this decade. martin aston :: ::