When an artist as iconic as David Bowie announces an album, expectations of something along the lines of a Second Coming tend to circulate. It was no help that Bowie’s announcement was coupled with the release of a new single, “Where Are We Now?,” a characteristically extraterrestrial ballad emanating the rejuvenation that a 10-year sabbatical provides. While the album is by no means a new classic amid his essentials-filled catalog, The Next Day dutifully serves as proof that the man has yet to lose his creative edge.
This album isn’t a step in any direction that is strikingly new for Bowie. Instead, he combines the various styles he has developed throughout the different sonic eras of his 40-plus-year career, resulting in a collection of songs that are original yet strangely familiar. It plays almost like a “Best Of” compilation. Songs like “Love Is Lost” and “How Does the Grass Grow?” channel the choppy synth-pop of Let’s Dance. “Valentine’s Day” is more reminiscent of the baroque glam of Hunky Dory, while the plastic soul of Young Americans is recalled on “Boss of Me.”
Yet a handful of tunes are harder to place. The sinisterly filthy horns of “Dirty Boys” convey a whiskey-soaked angst suited for the snarl of Tom Waits. Meanwhile, “If You Can See Me” is surprisingly trippy for even Bowie. The vocals are subjected to octave-altering effects, backed by dissonant chords that progress through frequent key changes.
Under all the effects, his vocal prowess remains clear. He has aged considerably since his prime; his voice has not. Instead, his age finally matches the reedy geezer wail he’s always rocked. The question is inevitable: Did the world really need another Bowie album? Answer: Not really. But it should be thankful that comeback releases like The Next Day are still possible.
Contact Erik Weiner at [email protected].