David Bowie knew he was dying. A long battle of liver cancer had taken its toll on Bowie’s health, and he knew that soon enough he would pass away. In his final months, he poured himself into one last project, a deeply experimental jazz-rock album meant to be his final parting gift to his fans.
The album was called “Blackstar.” Two days after its release on Jan. 8, 2016, Bowie died.
It’s been over a decade since Bowie left us with his one final, defining piece of work. Produced in secret with his long-time collaborator Tony Visconti and a small legion of jazz musicians from New York City, “Blackstar” is a dark, art-rock rumination on mortality and artistic legacy that pulls zero punches with its musical experimentation.
“Blackstar” does not hold the listener’s hand. It’s full of jazzy drums, atmospheric breakdowns, numerous horns and vocal performances that aren’t close to anything the highly experimental Bowie had done before.
The album’s lead single is commonly known as “Blackstar,” although the track’s official title is literal a symbol of a black star. A nearly 10-minute, experimental art-rock track with an ambient breakdown in the middle of the song, “Blackstar” doesn’t shy away from darkness, and has an ambience that might scare away some listeners while enthralling others.
Among the most experimental songs in Bowie’s entire discography, “Blackstar” takes you on a sonic journey. The grooves change, Bowie’s vocal performance changes and the instruments used change many times during the song’s 10-minute runtime.
“Blackstar” is an art-rock album that takes inspiration from experimental jazz and hip-hop. Visconti cited Kendrick Lamar’s “To Pimp a Butterfly” as a heavy influence on the album due to its genre-blending sound and emphasis on jazz.
Collaborator Danny McCaslin cited the experimental hip-hop group Death Grips as an influence due to their experimental drum work and tempo changes, as well as Canadian electronic duo Boards of Canada because of their synthesizer work. James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem also has percussion credits on two of the tracks and was present in many of the studio sessions.
All these non-rock influences are the reason “Blackstar” sounds so different from the rest of Bowie’s discography. It is a brooding, melancholic album concerned with the implications of mortality, and attempts to convey the dread, confusion, and relief that comes with the knowledge that death is near with its musical experimentation. This is especially evident in the album’s second single “Lazarus,” a six-minute odyssey of jazz and art-rock that explores the mindset of a dying man.
The comparison to Lazarus, the biblical figure who famously rose from the dead, solidifies the theme of mortality and the immortality of music that persists through the rest of the album, although nowhere as clearly as on this song. In the song, Bowie sings almost of relief regarding death: “This way or no way, you know I’ll be free/ Just like that bluebird now, ain’t that just like me?”
“Lazarus” encapsulates the essence of the album’s concerns with mortality and creative legacy. It is a haunting, brooding song not meant to comfort the listener, although those last lines evoke a freedom from pain and suffering that is honorable. It stays with the listener long after it finishes.
In contrast, the last two songs of the album, “Dollar Days” and “I Can’t Give Everything Away,” stray from the darkness of the first half of the album, and paint a more accepting picture of death. The production is lighter, with a bittersweet tone that departs from the heavy broodiness of “Blackstar” and “Lazarus.” Saxophones drift in and out with beautiful jazzy solos on “Dollar Days,” while synthesizers and harmonicas burst through an upbeat electronic drum beat on “I Can’t Give Everything Away.”
These two tracks highlight the album’s versatility without distracting from the main sound of the album, evoking a more peaceful state of mind. The track placement is poignantly intentional on this album; these songs being the last two on the album feel almost like an encore to the rest of the album, a swan song of sorts.
2016 saw the deaths of many musicians. We lost the likes of Prince, George Michael and Leonard Cohen, as well as other celebrities like Alan Rickman and Carrie Fisher.
But for some, Bowie’s death may have hit harder than others. He was a chameleon of sorts – almost not human. He felt like an artist who transcended human troubles, probably aided by his long career of depicting aliens, astronauts and other cosmic entities in his music.
Bowie’s music was often a means of escape, a way to play a character and tell a story, and it lifted his persona above relatability. “Blackstar” is the opposite, a stark confrontation with mortality and the end of one of music history’s most enduring legacies. At the end of his life and career, Bowie took a step back and had a conversation with himself and his fans about mortality, artistic legacy and spirituality.
In his final moments Bowie did not want to experience death alone. He wanted to include his audience into the process, using his medium to extend a hand to others in his dying days. For that reason alone, “Blackstar” is worth checking out.
Francisco Aguirre-Ghiso can be reached at [email protected].
