My Month of Bowie, day 23: 'Heathen' (2002)

Bowie predicts you're going to love this album.

The album: Heathen (ISO, 2002)

Bowie in the new millennium.

My thoughts: This album marked David Bowie's reunion with longtime collaborator Tony Visconti, who produced most of Bowie's work from 1969 to 1980. And sure enough, Heathen is the first album since Scary Monsters (1980) that sounds like it could have been made during David's classic period. I enjoyed this 23rd album so much the first time I heard it, I almost didn't trust my own reaction. Could it really be so good or were my ears and my brain playing tricks on me?

In the course of doing this project, I basically sleepwalked through seven consecutive Bowie albums from Tonight (1984) through Hours (1999). I casually shrugged off 15 years' worth of content, including some wild stylistic experiments and ambitious concept albums. I perked up for the punchy, hyperkinetic Earthling (1997), but, for the most part, I couldn't really get too excited about the other albums from this era. Heathen was the first record since Let's Dance (1983) that made me want to pay attention.

Keep in mind, nothing on Heathen made me forget about "Life on Mars?" or "Changes" or "Space Oddity." Nothing here is quite as catchy or memorable as those classics. While this album generated a few singles ("Slow Burn," "Everybody Says Hi," "I've Been Waiting for You"), even these tracks are probably best enjoyed in their original context. Heathen is somehow more than the sum of its parts. Over the course of twelve songs, Bowie frets about the state of the world, casts an anxious eye toward the future, and looks back on his own life and his own relationships with a mixture of longing and regret. Bowie probably had a lot on his mind in 2002. This was his first album of the new millennium, his first since 9/11, and his first since the death of George Harrison. 

The Chemical X that makes this record work (at least for me) is Tony Visconti. Bowie collaborated with many musicians and producers over the course of his career, but none understood him better than Visconti. In particular, Visconti knew how to use strings effectively on a Bowie LP, which is to say sparingly. There is something magical about the sound of Bowie's '70s albums that is largely missing from his '80s and '90s albums. Heathen brings it back.

I have the oddest thoughts when I listen to David Bowie's albums. Today, while listening to Heathen, I began to imagine David Bowie forming a Traveling Wilburys-type supergroup with Lou Reed, Morrissey, Leonard Cohen, and Robert Smith. Together, they could make the gloomiest, doomiest record ever. The Glowering Wilburys.

POSTSCRIPT. I normally don't dip into the Bowie marginalia or apocrypha. In fact, I had a rather sour experience with the Black Tie White Noise (1993) bonus tracks last Thursday. But the version of Heathen that I found contained some extra songs at the end, so I gave these a listen with the understanding that they would not affect my overall rating of the album. Ultimately, while the remixes (by Moby and Air) were too timid for my taste, some of the other ancillary tracks from the Heathen sessions were strong enough to have made the main album. Bowie might have released them as a standalone EP, but I guess that wasn't his style.

Next: Reality (2003)