David Bowie - Live in Santa Monica 1972 Review

Posted by Vanessa Willoughby on 07.24.2008

It’s finally here: the coveted 1972 live recording of Bowie in Santa Monica. But does the album live up to the hype? Or does Ziggy Stardust fail to deliver?

When you think about an artist like David Bowie, you not only expect quality music, but a stellar performance. Undoubtedly a Rock and Roll Chameleon, Bowie’s reputation for innovation and experimentation are characteristics that shine in his music and his public persona. His music is directly influenced by his style and vice versa. In the BBC's 2002 poll of the 100 Greatest Britons, Bowie ranked 29. Throughout his career he has sold an estimated 196 million albums, and ranks among the ten best-selling acts in UK pop history. In 2004, Rolling Stone magazine ranked him 39th on their list of the 100 Greatest Artists of All Time.

As a Bowie fan, I regret to say that I’ve never had the opportunity to see him live in concert. Although I wasn’t even born when this concert occurred, stumbling across this material today is certainly a breath of fresh air. Not to sound like a traitor to my generation or anything, but what happened to true showmanship? What happened to not only musical innovation but true style?

Granted, there are always exceptions to the rule. Without a doubt, the recent emergence of a handful of bands has greatly surpassed my expectations. On the other hand, sometimes I feel as though the music industry could benefit from a jolt of artistic electricity. When was the last time you listened to something and said, “Wow, I’ve never heard anything like this before!”

I’m afraid it’s become a plague upon our culture to always want to search for the familiar, to compare the unknown to the recognizable. As a result, listening to this recording reminds me of the malleability of music, of its uncanny ability to shift and evolve, if placed in the right hands. Even if you absolutely hate Bowie, you can’t deny his rightful place in rock and roll history.

The Live from Santa Monica recording is an excellent compilation of the popular and the underrated, with the track listing as follows:

1. Intro
2. Hang on to Yourself
3. Ziggy Stardust
4. Changes
5. The Supermen
6. Life on Mars?
7. Five Years
8. Space Oddity
9. Andy Warhol
10. My Death
11. The Width of a Circle
12. Queen Bitch
13. Moonage Daydream
14. John, I’m Only Dancing
15. Waiting for the Man
16. The Jean Genie
17. Suffragette City
18. Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide

Avoiding the predictable, Bowie doesn’t open with the recognizable “Ziggy Stardust” or “Space Oddity,” but with “Hang on to Yourself.” The zippy roar of the guitars is a great way to set the atmosphere and kick off the concert. The sharp frenzy of the guitar and bass faintly recall the trademark vivacity of the punk genre.

However, unlike the genre as a whole, “Hang on to Yourself” is aggressive but simultaneously accessible. The punk undertones of the song don’t compete with Bowie’s vocals and thus, it’s more so in the vein of The Rolling Stones than the Ramones. The energy of the song not only compliments Bowie’s voice, but the very nature of his persona as an artist. Line up all of the covers of his albums; it’s physical evidence of his drive to push himself as an artist, forsaking the comfort of routine and stability for the uncertainty of constant metamorphosis. On the whole, Bowie’s vocals are spot-on, clear and peppered with extra enunciation that can only be derived in a live setting.

The entry from “Hang on to Yourself” and “Ziggy Stardust” is practically seamless. Stylistically, it’s a detour from the opening song. Fortunately, the flow or the energy isn’t ruined. Once again, Bowie adds small alternations to the tone and inflection of his vocals, thus exhibiting the distinct quality that separates a studio recording from a live performance.

“Changes” is performed with honest, gripping conviction, as though Bowie were singing to himself and only himself. As the title implies, the song is about experiencing changes in life. Fortunately, due to the strength of the lyrics and Bowie’s own unique voice, the listener actually contemplates the weight of the song, rather than any connotations of sentimentality. This is not a song for Hallmark, but a crucial cinematic moment in which the main character finally confronts his past. Preferably from a Wes Anderson movie.

“The Superman” is another song distinct from the previous, yet it sustains the current of energy established at the beginning. All of Bowie’s songs tell a story, but he remains in command of the story he’s telling. Like a veteran pilot, he steers the audience in the right direction, painting the details that are vital to the heart of the song.

This can be said about the next track, “Life on Mars?” The piano creates a pleasant, melodic contrast to the sudden blitzkrieg of guitars. The emotion in his voice is just right for the subject of the song, forming a tangible connection between himself and the audience. This technique can also be heard in “Space Oddity.” The listener can feel the apprehension of the astronaut and his underlying need to connect to humanity. The lyrics make a mental movie in your mind; as Bowie sings about Major Tom floating in outer space, this is the exact image that appears. Unlike the other songs, the guitar isn’t as heavy, allowing Bowie’s voice to take front and center.

One of the most moving songs on this album is “My Death.” The lyrics in this song are tight and hard-hitting; the listener can’t help but block everything else out and focus on the words. For example, Bowie sings, “My death waits/Like a Bible truth/At the funeral of my youth.” It’s simple and at the same time, it’s a piece of poetry.

Although the title alone would seem to inspire melancholy or despair, it’s the complete opposite. There’s a sense of tranquility and acceptance in his tone, which prevents the song from becoming too drenched in self-pity or self-loathing. What’s beautiful about this song is that it’s vague without being confusing. Bowie never exactly explains who is dying or why he’s dying, but that’s not the point. Instead of focusing on wasted youth or the pain of an unlived life, Bowie sings as though he were unwrapping a Christmas present, determined to make one second of euphoria stretch into an hour.

Surprisingly, my only criticism concerns Bowie’s cover of “Waiting for the Man.” Originally by The Velvet Underground, Bowie’s vocals seem to imitate Lou Reed, rather than pay homage to him. Truthfully, I was expecting something more to this song, some overtly flamboyant touch that would make this song his own, rather than just a cover. Although technically speaking, the song is right on target, I wasn’t blown away.

Finally, “Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide” completes the album in a way that could never be achieved with something as well-known as “Suffragette City” or even “Changes.” There is a sense of continuity being fulfilled, a sense that the story has come to a respective close.

The 411: From Ziggy Stardust to the reign of the Thin White Duke, Bowie is almost like an actor, in the sense that he can easily slip in and out of his various identities like a costume. Although it’s been awhile since Bowie has taken the stage, his absence does not mean that his significance has diminished. In fact, with the recent overflow of faux-punk bands and Disney manufactured puppets, Bowie’s Live from Santa Monica could almost pass as brand new. The relevance and longevity of his career is proven with this recording; without David Bowie, there is no rock and roll.

Final Score:  8.5   [ Very Good ]