After dissing a few Bowie-in-the-seventies sacred cows (1, 2, 3), I was looking forward to listening to one that, in my mind/in collective consciousness (I can't tell where one ends and the other begins), is almost as good as Low.
By and large I was underwhelmed and a bit disappointed. Sure, I can hear bags of attitude and some off-centre production. But, with one exception, the songs and compositions and atmospheres are less than great. Yes, the exception is the the title track. Lots of things that make it wonderful, from the overall grandeur to the details like the three microphones for DB's vocal that you can read about on the Wikipedia page (there's an individual Wikipedia page for every track on this album — not often you see that). But my favourite detail relates to our chums Fripp and Eno again. At the time (mid 1977), Fripp was reaching the end of a three year spiritual sabbatical from the life of a professional musician. Eric Tamm picks up the tale:
On numerous occasions Fripp has told with relish the story of how, in late July 1977, David Bowie and Brian Eno coaxed him out of quiescence. One version goes like this: "I was in New York and I got a phone call one Saturday night: 'Hello, it's Brian. I'm here in Berlin with David. Hold on, I'll hand you over.' So Mr. B. came on the line and said, 'We tried playing guitars ourselves; it's not working. Do you think you can come in and play some burning rock'n'roll guitar?' I said, 'Well, I haven't really played guitar for three years… but I'll have a go!'"
I think I've heard one or two of those accounts direct from the mouth of Fripp, possibly on recordings like this or this. Perhaps it was someone else's version where Fripp got off the plane in Berlin, went straight to the studio, asked for a cup of tea, and then plugged in and laid down an epochal solo without so much as 'freshening up' after his flight. Never mind the influences of heroin and Gurdjieff, I think there was a fair bit of good old testosterone at work in that studio — see the pictures.
Is there more than one version of "Heroes" (the song)? Like one sung in German, or something? I once heard a 25-minute version. Tim told me about this extra strong dope he'd picked up in Croydon. He brought one spliff round to my house: it was tiny, made with normal size rizlas. We shared it, and didn't notice anything at first, then set off for The Stag. It was as I took the steps down to the road that I felt my knees go wobbly in an unusual way. But all else was, apparently, undisturbed, as we took our seats in the pub. Then "Heroes" came on the juke box, and we listened, talked a bit, listened some more, talked some more… listened. That version went on forever. Later, Tim asked me, "Have you got time to squeeze in one more pint, or is it home to bed?" I looked round for the clock on the wall. "Tim," I said, "It's only twenty past nine; I think I can manage a couple yet!"
The first time I 'owned' "Heroes" (the album) was late 1978 or early 1979, when I borrowed a cassette version from Woking Record Library. We had no means of recording direct from cassette to another cassette at home, so I had to rig up my portable radio-cassette next to the speaker of my parents' 'music centre' (switched to mono) and then ban anyone else from entering the living room for the duration of each side. As I was underwhelmed then, as well, I don't think that recording lasted very long. But I bought a vinyl copy a decade later, at the same time as Low.
Comments