| Track: | Rating: | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. The Laughing Gnome | | | |||
| 2. Love You Till Tuesday | | | | ||
| 3. Please Mr. Gravedigger | | | | ||
| 4. We Are Hungry Men | | | | ||
| 5. The London Boys | | | | ||
| 6. Come And Buy My Toys | | | | | |
| 7. Karma Man | | | | ||
| 8. When I Live My Dream | | | |||
| 9. Join The Gang | | | | | |
| 10. Silly Boy Blue | | | | | |
David Bowie: vocals, guitar, keyboards
All tracks written by David Bowie.
It's quite common, in the entertainment industry, for established stars to see their embarrassing early material reissued for profit by competing record labels. Starting Point fits perfectly into this category.
Although issued in 1977, this album is one of many collections of Bowie's pre-"Space Oddity" material -- all tracks were recorded in 1966-67 as single sides (none of which, it should go without saying, were breakthrough hits). As per the usual manner in which these releases are handled, there is some material here which is not available on most other collections, some material missing which is available on most other collections. One almost wonders if it was planned this way.
These recordings generally take the standard form of late-'60s pop numbers, though generally with enough eclecticism to allow for some enjoyment beyond the level of mere historical curiosity. In terms of its song selection, Starting Point isn't the most successful release of this sort -- only three tracks featured here are not also on the David Bowie album, and only one ("The London Boys") is really any good; moreover, some half-decent tracks from DB ("Rubber Band", "Uncle Arthur", etc) are omited from this version. Although the sarcastic liner notes from James Spina are almost worth the price of admission on their own, there isn't terribly much in the way of musical quality that can't also be found on the other album.
This means that those individuals most inclined to purchase this album would be (i) collectors, and (ii) those who really want to hear "The Laughing Gnome" and can't find another outlet. I will confess that my own curiosity regarding this track was what compelled me to shell out $3 for a used copy of the album, even though I already had DB in my collection. "The Laughing Gnome" is, from a musical standpoint, a fairly conventional English pop number from the 1960s, featuring jerky drum rhythms and a fairly catchy bass line. But the music isn't the point ...
The song is most notable for featuring Bowie's vocal duet with a sped-up vocal line (presumably DB's own), representing the voice of the laughing gnome whom the narrator encounters while walking down the street one day. The chorus (especially on the last verse, wherein DB breaks down in premeditated laughter) utilizes this dueting skill to its most complete effect. Numerous godawful "gnome" puns are littered throughout the work, most notably the clicking sound which marks the appearance of the gnome's brother ("He's a metro-gnome", as the titular figure helpfully informs us). It's rather frightening that Bowie would have risked receiving attention for this song in the mid-1960s; one wonders how he may have been typecast had it been successful. Amusingly, the track was reissued during the peak of his "glam-rock" period (1973), and made the British top 10!
Although I cannot recommend this song from a musical standpoint, there is a certain element of humour value involved here which may make a purchase of the album justifiable. Your call.
The remaining tracks on the album are obviously bound to disappoint the listener from a "novelty" standpoint, but are generally more substantial as works of music -- they don't hold a candle to Bowie's best work, but tend to be fairly decent tracks for what they are. "Love You Till Tuesday", for example, is an enjoyable-if-lightweight piece of '60s pop, featuring a fairly clever drum/percussion presence. There's not terribly much to write about as regards this work, except to note that it could potentially have fit on Hunky Dory with a few minor lyrical shifts (just to make things a bit more sinister, of course).
"Please Mr. Gravedigger" is a more obviously theatrical number, featuring DB in the role of a pathological murderer overseeing the work of the gravedigger in question. Church bells toll in the background and the lonely narrator walks through the cemetery (in Lambeth) -- the song is basically an a cappela number, save for the sound of crunching leaves and rainfall (not to mention the two sneezes that Bowie throws into the track). In a final lyrical twist, Bowie's character makes it clear that the GD himself is intended as his next victim (Spina's description of this is classic). Similarities to Bowie's later themes of urban decay and lawlessness are obvious. Not among Bowie's best work, but fairly intriguing nonetheless.
"We Are Hungry Men" is perhaps best regarded as a tentative first-step towards Bowie's subsequent, more elaborate apocalyptic themes. To summarize the song briefly: after a German radio broadcaster announces a growing problem of world overpopulation (over an absurd trumpet bit), a messianic figure attempts to gain dominion over the world to solve this problem. Government forces eventually legalize "mass abortion" (which presumably has some meaning beyond the medical procedure itself) and "turn a blind eye to infanticide" -- one wonders if policies by the Chinese government could have inspired this track. At the end of the song, the would-be followers of the attempted messiah turn against him, and subsequently eat him. All told, the song doesn't quite rank at the same level as later works on related themes ... still, there is some promise here (and the pitch-dropping effects on the early synthesizer is a cute touch).
"The London Boys" is next, a late '60s lyrical ballad describing the tale of a young man arriving in England's capital and quickly finding himself submerged in a life of drug addiction and constant contact with certain unsavoury friends. The musical background is mixed extremely low, allowing Bowie's lyrics to take the focal role. This is probably the best track on the first half of the release, though the trumpet at the end should probably have been eliminated.
60% of the material of the second half is of a better musical nature. "Come And Buy My Toys" begins this side on a fairly high note, with the rhythm of an acoustic guitar providing a suitable background for the rather unusual lyrical development -- the description of a young boy on his father's farm is presumably meant to imply some subsequent entrapment in a more commercial salesman's atmosphere, though some have found more sinister meanings as well. One way or the other, though, it's a fairly good "art song" for the period in question.
The next two tracks are a bit of a step down. "Karma Man" (the third of the tracks not available on DB) is an almost charmingly naive description of a reclusive figure in silent meditation on assorted higher forms. There are a few suggestions that this figure could have a more sinister nature, but, in this case, it seems unlikely. The instrumental ending isn't terribly bad, but the song seems hopelessly derivative of various elements of trendy pop culture.
"When I Live My Dream" shouldn't be on the album. A few interesting/ amusing lyrical tricks aside ("Baby, I'll a slay a dragon for you"), this is an incredibly tedious "romantic" number, with saccharine-based music to match. The reference to a "date" at the end is pure bathos. Surely something better than this could have been chosen ...
Thankfully, the last two tracks are considerably more interesting. "Join The Gang" begins with the line "Johnny plays the sitar/He's an existentialist", thereby suggesting a greater degree of experimentation than in many of the previous numbers. The song concerns the efforts of devious music-oriented souls to win converts to their lifestyle, not denying their decadent and destructive nature in the process. Musically, there is much of note here: good drumming, an obviously sped-up sitar part, a quote from "Gimme Some Lovin'" (as Spina notes), a psychedelic sound-effects section, and a moderately free-form musical ending. Not bad at all.
Finally, the album concludes with the impressive "Silly Boy Blue", a description of a solitary individual's developing abilities to hide within his own psyche after a disturbing life in the English public school system. Bowie then links this ability to the potential of holding an unsavoury role within society while locked in self-reflection (hence, "A dealer likes to feel that his over-self pays the bill"); it isn't clear if this refers to the same figure mentioned earlier in the song, however. The song ends with various spiritual references, generally relating to Tibetan practices. If the themes are a bit naive, the story has at least some merit in it. An excellent way to conclude a journey through this period in Bowie's career.
There's nothing about this album to make it essential to a Bowie fan and, as these releases go, David Bowie is probably the better of the two. Still, this release isn't completely superfluous. Perhaps "recommended for those curious" would be the best judgement to give on this album.
Addendum: Hours after writing this review, I was informed of the existence of a 27-track Deram Anthology: 1966-1968, which contains all of the tracks on Starting Point, and 17 others as well. This would obviously now become the recommended purchase for those curious in this period, unless (i) the price prohibits it, or (ii) Spina's liner notes are enough of an incentive on their own.
(review originally posted to alt.music.yes on 6 March 1998)