David Bowie – Space Oddity Review

It may feature one of his earliest hits, but it would be some time before David Bowie was in the good books with listeners. Space Oddity is an outstanding title track, to run through why and what its ongoing relevancy is would be to rehash thoughts told a thousand times over, only to end with “…and it would’ve been a fitting end credits track for The Martian.” In lieu of repetition, then, it’s worth just accepting Space Oddity, the second album Bowie ever put out, is built around the title track and little more. He had thankfully ditched the twee sounds of his self-titled debut, realising almost immediately that sort of songwriting just didn’t work for him musically. His voice was much stronger than his first album let on, and Space Oddity goes a long way in rectifying that. Monumental instrumental breaks, the freshness of landing on the Moon in the minds of every listener, the space age stylishness from Bowie would buck the trend of other artists. He, like 10cc, used the vastness of space as a contrast to the intimate, complex emotions back on Earth.  

Space Oddity does that. The title track, that is. Everything afterwards is a mixed bag of trialled, failing experiments. It’s more honing his craft than anything immaculate. Where a burst of truly unique, inspired production may start the album, what follows is a relatively tame style where Bowie tries to catch up The Rolling Stones’ harmonica-led blues rock. Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed gives us a real glimpse into that blur of rock and alternative commentaries Bowie would sharpen throughout the 1970s. Letter to Hermione is a short and relatively sweet love song where the act of writing about love overtakes the love itself. It’s the promise, hollow it may be, of intimacy, backed by the acoustic stability Bowie brings about on Space Oddity.  

What the album benefits from most of all is that stream of consciousness style. Bowie’s writing style, that ability to pull from pop culture and pair it with descriptors, be it Catholic throat-slitting or kicking out the jams, it all falls into place like a sober glimpse into the psychedelic backdrop. Cygnet Committee is a gem of a song, a real rarity from this period for Bowie, a song that sounds as though it’s the blueprint for Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide. There’s nothing bad on Space Oddity, just few moments of sincere triumph. Songs like God Knows I’m Good and Wild Eyed Boy from Freecloud endeavour to tie the acoustic merit of Space Oddity with the twee, lighter writing style of David Bowie. It’s not the worst pairing, but it does soften the blow of Space Oddity as an album.  

Memory of a Free Festival serves as a closer that undoes the A-side. It’s a solid piece of work and has its moments of haunting contemplation thanks to the space Bowie’s voice is given, but it never quite cracks the psychedelic thrills or rock provocation that earlier songs on the album did. It feels like two steps forward, one step back. Ultimately a positive, but Bowie gets cold feet and constricts himself to a style which was dated when he released his first album, let alone two years later on his follow-up. But it’s a reinvention which worked for Bowie, Space Oddity would be a sign of what was to come rather than the explosive, genre-changing efforts that the veteran musician would become known for in the years to follow. It’s a moment of promise in a career filled with songs that made good on this confidence, simmering as it does, through Space Oddity.