Lodger

About

Released in 1979, the third and final chapter of David Bowie’s Berlin Trilogy has always felt like the outlier of the three. For one, <i>Lodger</i> was actually recorded in Switzerland and New York, and—in contrast to the dichotomous pop/ambient structures of the preceding <i>Low</i> and <i>“Heroes”</i>—the album marks a full-fledged return to focused, guitar-driven songcraft. But <i>Lodger</i> earns its place in the trilogy not only because it employs much of the same supporting cast, including chief collaborator Brian Eno, but because it’s ultimately a by-product of the same feverishly experimental streak that colored the previous installment. It’s just that, instead of trying to push himself outside of the rock lexicon, Bowie reformulates it from within, by turning his word, melodie, and chord progressions inside-out while still working inside the confines of a three-minute pop song. Back on <i>Ziggy Stardust</i>, Bowie assumed the look of a space alien; <i>Lodger</i> sounds like it was actually made by one. <i>Lodger</i> is ultimately distinguished by its loose, playful spirit, which was largely inspired by the vague yet suggestive directions solicited from Eno’s famous Oblique Strategies playing-card set. (The results included, but were not limited to: swapping instrumental role, writing new songs over old ones being played backwards on tape, and building different tunes out of the same chord patterns played at different speed.) Where <i>Low</i> and <i>“Heroes”</i> reflected the tension and trauma of post-war Europe, here Bowie takes a more carefree globe-trotting approach. <i>Lodger</i> finds him smashing Middle Eastern folk music into reggae rhythms (“Yassassin”), pairing jungle-rumbling rhythms with absurdist proto-rap vignettes (“African Night Flight”), and reimagining the cool krautrock pulse of Neu! as the soundtrack to swashbuckling, seafaring adventure (“Red Sails”). And while <i>“Heroes”</i> guitar hero Robert Fripp isn’t around this time, Bowie finds a worthy replacement in Frank Zappa associate Adrian Belew, who adds funhouse-mirrored frequencies to the avant-soul stomper “Repetition,” while longtime foil Carlos Alomar brings a furiously funky edge to the manic, sidewinding groove of “Look Back in Anger.” .

via Apple Music

The Clerk says

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