David Bowie's years in Berlin mark a turning point in his career - where he sacrificed his space-age glam appeal in order to pursue something truly extraordinary. Little has actually been written about what Bowie actually saw in Berlin, but whatever it was must have shaken him to his very core, enough so that he felt the need to tear everything the **** down and start from scratch. And itDavid Bowie's years in Berlin mark a turning point in his career - where he sacrificed his space-age glam appeal in order to pursue something truly extraordinary. Little has actually been written about what Bowie actually saw in Berlin, but whatever it was must have shaken him to his very core, enough so that he felt the need to tear everything the **** down and start from scratch. And it was this move that turned him from a funky space-pop showman into an honest-to-god composer, someone who innovates, explores, and touches down on distant planets, rather than simply dabbles in space.
The first two albums in this set, Low and Heroes, are perhaps the most alien from the rest of his discography to that point. Low is essentially the living ancestor of what we now call "post-rock", where songs aren't so much tracks as they are extended landscape shots of ruins of some distant society, somehow both futuristic and primitive. The first side of crunchy, warped, psychedelic "bits" of pop-music leave an immense impression on the listener, but not as much as the album's second side, comprised of moody, minimal compositions, who owe as much sonic inspiration to their co-creator Brian Eno as they do the likes of Steve Reich, or even Glenn Branca at turns. This set tweaks Low in a few unnecessary but by no means offensive ways, namely making the compositions feel more weighty by turning up the bass several notches. The exact opposite is true of the album's follow-up, Heroes, which follows much the same format, although placing a greater emphasis on tight-if-mystifying pop compositions, which feel like the spiritual brother to Bowie's 1976 effort "Station to Station". This set changes very little about the original album, which wasn't very bass heavy to begin with.
Concluding this trilogy is Lodger, which isn't as much "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" as it is "Return of the Jedi." The album sprawls, expands, and devours as many worldly music spices as it can before fading into the ether. A final chapter that sets it's sights squarely on satisfying lore-building and landing just shy of groundbreaking. The bass-meddling of this set is justified by this set's version of Lodger, which feels notably less airy and paper-thin than the lackluster original mix. As any Bowie fan knows, this isn't exactly the end of this leg of Bowie's career, as he had one more art pop masterpiece in him, 1980's Scary Monsters and Super Creeps, a "farewell-to-arms" from artist to art, the very last versatile, impactful release the man would produce for many years, before retreating in the comfy catacombs of the contemporary pop charts. Many fans tend to look at this album as kind of its own thing, but in retrospect, this compilation recontextualizes "Scary Monsters" as a plaintive last-hurrah for the artist's most passionate fans. Most notable on the album is the extraordinary "Ashes to Ashes", a career bookend for the artist, with references to various points of personal defeat over the last decade, and even concluding the Major Tom narrative from "Space Oddity" in way that would make any devoted fan form a lump in their throats.
The extra content in this compilation aren't so much rarities as they are significant career milestones, live performances, singles, and alternate versions that serve to flesh out the historicity of the Berlin era. Berlin, in the eyes of a Bowie fan, means gloomy introspection, deeply moving and effective sonic experimentation, self-effacing personal growth, intimate reflections on pain, sorrow, addiction, despair, and death, and yet, in spite of everything, the opportunity for all of us to grow from these and become better, wiser versions of ourselves, and the everlasting triumph there is in knowing that.… Expand