Mick Ronson - The "I'm In Love With That Song" Podcast - Music Commentary, Song Analysis & Rock History

Before there was Ziggy Stardust, there was Arnold Corns…

Thanks to a legendary performance on Top Of The Pops 50 years ago, “Starman” became Bowie’s first hit since “Space Oddity” and proved he wasn’t a one-hit wonder. In this episode, we dig into the history of this song and the origin of Ziggy Stardust.

Here’s a few more Bowie episodes for your listening pleasure:

David Bowie – “Space Oddity”

David Bowie – “Station To Station”

David Bowie – “Time”

TRANSCRIPT:

Are you freaked out in a moon age daydream? Well, you better hang on to yourself, because here comes another episode of the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast on the Pantheon Podcast Network. I’m your host, Brad Page, and on this show, I pick one of my favorite songs and we listen to it together to discover all of the nuances and elements, those special moments that make the song work.

David Bowie is one of our favorite subjects here on this show, because he’s one of my favorite artists. This month marks the 50th anniversary of the song that introduced Ziggy Stardust to the world, and launched David Bowie into stardom. So let’s celebrate the release of that iconic single from April 28, 1970, 250 years ago. This is David Bowie with “Starman”.

By 1971, David Bowie had been making records for eight years. But critical acclaim eluded him. He had tried being a blues singer. He had tried being a folky. He finally had a taste of real success with “Space Oddity” in 1969, but he was on the verge of being a one hit wonder.

As a teenager, he worked for an advertising agency in London. He only lasted there a year, but he was there long enough to pick up some basic advertising and marketing skills that he would later put to good use. He knew how to present an image, and he believed he had finally landed on the right product: the ultimate rock star. He just needed to do some market testing.

In 1971, along with his own recording contract, he was also working as a songwriter for a publisher, trying to write hit songs for other people. He had recorded a couple of demos that he wanted to release, but because he was under contract to a different record label, he couldn’t release the songs under his own name. So, he invented a character and a band to go along with it. But it’s not who you think.

The name of this band was Arnold Corns, and their lead singer was named Rudy Valentino. Neither Arnold Corns nor Rudy Valentino really existed. Bowie had met a 19-year-old fashion designer named Freddie Burretti. Bowie thought Freddie had the look of a rock star and would be the perfect guinea pig and front man for this new fake band. The fact that Freddie couldn’t sing, that was no problem– Bowie would provide the voice.

So David gave Freddie the stage name of “Rudy Valentino” and created the fake band Arnold Corns to back him up. Bowie hyped them up in the press, saying that the Rolling Stones are finished and Rudy would be the next Mick Jagger. So Arnold Korns released two singles. One of them was “Moonage Daydream”, backed with “Hang On To Yourself”. Here’s a little bit of Arnold Korn’s version of “Moonage Daydream”.

And here’s some of the Arnold Korn’s version of “Hang On To Yourself”.

You can really hear the Lou Reed influence in that version. Well, fortunately for the Rolling Stones, Arnold Corns was no threat. Both singles flopped and sunk without a trace.

This experiment was not a success, but Bowie would learn from it and revisit it later. In the meantime, Bowie released the “Hunky Dory” album in December 1971. Still, I think one of his best albums, “Hunky Dory”, was a leap forward in his songwriting and another rung up the ladder of success. But Bowie still had bigger ambitions. He revisited his concept of the ultimate rock star and drew inspiration from Elvis Presley to Howard Hughes, from the legendary Stardust Cowboy to the self-destruction of Hendrix and Joplin, and from novels from Van Daniken’s “Chariots of the Gods” to “I Am Still The Greatest, Says John Angelo” by Nick Cohn.

He wrote new songs and resurrected old ones like “Moonage Daydream” and “Hang On To Yourself” to create the album that would finally make David Bowie a legend, “The Rise And Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars”.

The Ziggy Stardust album has been called a “concept album”. Fair enough… It has a concept, but not much of a coherent story. Essentially, it’s the ascent and decline of a rock star who may or may not be an alien. Bowie, of course, plays Ziggy Stardust, and in doing so, he’s commenting on the role of the rock star in our culture and challenging the ideas of authenticity.

The album was released in June 1972. Before the album was released, “Starman” was issued as a single on April 28, 1972. “Starman” was the introduction of Ziggy Stardust to the world.

“Starman” was one of the last songs written for the album. It’s a classic example of a record label executive saying “I don’t hear a hit” and forcing the artist to go back and write something new for a single. Luckily, Bowie delivered.

It’s possible Bowie might have been inspired by science fiction author Robert Heinlein’s book “Starman Jones”. Bowie’s real name, after all, was David Jones. Musically, he drew inspiration from a few sources, and we’ll explore those. “Starman” features the Spiders from Mars, Trevor Boulder on bass, Woody Woodmansey on drums, and the great Mick Ronson, one of my real guitar heroes, on guitar and backing vocals; David Bowie played acoustic guitar as well as lead vocal, and Mick Ronson also played mellotron and wrote the string arrangement. The song was produced by David Bowie and Ken Scott.

The song opens with Bowie’s twelve string guitar.

All right, let’s get into it. David’s twelve string guitar is in the right channel. There’s also a keyboard, probably that Mellotron holding a single note, one bass guitar note, a single strum of another guitar and guitar and bass again. David is singing there, but it’s just nonsense syllables. Though he did take the time to overdub a harmony on the first one. Then Woody Woodmansey’s drum fill kicks off the first verse.

Listen to how dry that drum sound is. No reverb on that at all. The instrumentation is pretty spare on the verse, just bass, drums and two acoustic guitars panned left and right.

Woody Woodmancy is laying down a nice groove on the drums. Let’s check that out.

I guarantee you David Bowie did not talk like that in real life. He’s channeling a character here.

Now, at this point, there’s a short transitional piece of music that links the verse to the chorus. Sounds like Morse code, or an old telegraph. It evokes the idea of messages being beamed through space. Could be the Starman letting us know he’s here. It paints an audio picture. Bowie actually got the idea from another song, “You Keep Me Hanging On” by The Supremes. Here it is.

Now let’s go back to “Starman” and hear how this section joins the verse and the chorus together.

That one, no DJ. That was high as it cosmic time.

Mick Ronson and David are singing the harmonies. The instrumentation is still just bass, drums and acoustic guitar, but the string section is added on the chorus and it’s filling in a lot of empty space.

“Let the children boogie”. Around this time, Mark Bolan and T Rex were probably the hottest act in the UK. T Rex were known for playing their own brand of boogie rock. Bolan was definitely bigger than Bowie at this point. They were friends, but they were also competitors, and Bowie clearly had Bolan in his sights when he made this album. After Bowie says “let the children boogie”, the band goes into a riff that would have been right at home on a T Rex record. It’s a nod, a tip of the hat to Mark Bolan, but it’s also a little bit mocking and somewhat ironic too, as “Starman” marks Bowie’s ascent, the point where Bolan had plateaued and Bowie was about to eclipse him.

Notice the hand claps after the guitar boogie section, we have the second verse. The electric guitars disappear. It’s just the acoustics again. And Bowie turns in a restrained, almost delicate vocal as compared to the chorus. Where he’s really belting it out.

Trevor Boulder plays a nice bass part during the verse, so pay some attention to that.

The chorus begins with some vocal gymnastics by Bowie. From the word “star”, his voice leaps a full octave to the word “man”. Generations of songwriters have used that technique, as it immediately adds a sense of drama, both a literal and a figurative rise in the song. And Bowie was particularly inspired here by this classic song, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”, performed by Judy Garland and written by Harold Arlin and Edgar Harburg for “The Wizard of Oz”. I mean, it’s one of the greatest songs ever written. Of course, Bowie as a songwriter would be inspired by that. Here’s that same octave leap again.

Now, you might think that this is all speculation and that Bowie could have come up with it on his own, or he borrowed it from somewhere else. But listen to this version of Bowie performing “Starman” live at the Rainbow Theater in August 1972.

So there you go. In fact, you could add Judy Garland to the list of those who inspired the creation of Ziggy Stardust, another star whose rise and fall mirrors that of Ziggy. Judy Garland died of an overdose in 1969, less than three years before “Starman” was written.

They repeat the chorus here.

The boogie section is the only time electric guitars are featured in the song. There are two electric guitars here, the solo and the rhythm part in the left channel. And there’s still one acoustic guitar on the right.

Here’s where everybody gets to sing along, where the listener becomes part of the experience.

Mick Ronson plays some lead guitar in the background and we begin a long fade out, which makes it feel like this sing along could go on forever.

In July 1972, Bowie appeared on the British tv show “Top of the Pops” to perform “Starman”. It was a watershed moment. Watching it now, it all seems so tame, but at the time it was almost revolutionary. Bowie, dressed in a multicolored outfit and that flaming red hairdo that is so identified with Ziggy now, but that was a brand new ‘do at the time. He never mugs for the camera in this performance, but he smirks and grins and just looks like he’s having a great time. When Mick Ronson approaches to share the mic with him, Bowie throws his arm around Mick and pulls him close. And that one move sent a shockwave across England. It seems so innocent now. It’s hard to believe something like that could ever be controversial, but for parents across the UK, the gay subtext was just too much. They were shocked. But for millions of kids watching at home, they saw something liberating. They saw freedom.

When he sings that line in the second verse, “I had to phone someone so I picked on you”, he points into the camera, and all those kids watching at home felt like he was singing directly to them. Robert Smith of the Cure, Bono, Gary Newman, Siouxie Sioux, Mick Jones of the Clash, Boy George. Adam Ant, Noel Gallagher of Oasis, Johnny Marr… seems like everybody who formed a band in England remember seeing Bowie on “Top of the Pops” and consider this a pivotal moment in their lives. If you’ve never seen this clip from “Top of the Pops”, go watch it now. Bowie is absolutely magnetic in this performance. He’s every bit the ultimate rock star.

Thanks for listening and for being a part of the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. You can continue the discussion on our Facebook page. Just search for the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast and you’ll find us.

You can listen to our previous episodes on David Bowie, as well as the dozens of other songs and artists we’ve discussed on this show, on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com. And there are plenty of other great music related podcasts on the Pantheon Podcast Network, so check those out too.

We’ll be back in two weeks with another show. Thanks for joining us for this episode on David Bowie and “Starman”. And remember to support the music you love by downloading it, streaming it, or buying it from wherever you find great music.

REFERENCES:

David Bowie
https://www.davidbowie.com/

Hunky Dory album
https://www.davidbowie.com/album/hunky-dory

Space Oddity
https://www.davidbowie.com/track/space-oddity-0

Robert Heinlein
https://www.heinleinsociety.org/

The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars album
https://www.davidbowie.com/album/the-rise-and-fall-of-ziggy-stardust-and-the-spiders-from-mars

Chariots of the Gods by Erich Von Daniken
https://www.erichvondaniken.com/en/

Judy Garland
https://www.judygarlandmuseum.com/

Top of the Pops
http://www.bbc.co.uk/totp

You Keep Me Hanging On” by The Supremes
https://www.motownmuseum.org/legacy/the-supremes/

Somewhere Over the Rainbow” by Judy Garland
https://www.judygarlandmuseum.com/

With this song, David Bowie practically invents the Goth-Punk-Cabaret genre. It’s an epic song with brilliant piano by Mike Garson. Let’s explore the track and see what makes this masterpiece tick. And if you like the podcast, please share!

TRANSCRIPT:

Welcome to I’m in Love with That Song, the podcast where we listen to a different song each show. This episode, we’re listening to “Time” by David Bowie.

Hi, my name is Brad Page, and I am a music junkie. There’s really nothing that moves me as much as a great song. So with this podcast, I pick one of my favorite songs and just try to understand why it moves me so much by listening attentively to the little elements and details that make up a great song. And in this episode, we’ve really got something: David Bowie and “Time.”

“Time” was recorded for David Bowie’s sixth studio album called Aladdin Sane, released in 1973. It was the sixth song on the album and, if you were listening to it on the original vinyl, it would have been the song that opens side two.

The song was written by David Bowie while on tour in New Orleans. And while it was completed in 1972, the song was actually started by Bowie in ’71 with the working title “We Should Be All On By Now.” And the earlier version was initially given to his friend, George Underwood.

After Bowie rewrote it, the song took on a distinctly European cabaret feel. And to me, this song is patient zero for all of the goth punk cabaret and burlesque rock bands that came after.

The song was produced by Ken Scott, and the band features David Bowie on vocals and acoustic guitar; Mick Ronson on electric guitar and backing vocals; Trevor Bolder on bass; Mick Woodmansey on drums; and Mike Garson on piano.

Now, Mick Ronson was Bowie’s ace in the hole. He had so much to do with shaping Bowie’s early sound, and I think he’s a really underappreciated guitarist. But on this whole album, especially the title cut and this song, I think you have to give the MVP award to Mike Garson on piano, who brought a whole new depth and soundscape to Bowie’s music at this time. This was Garson’s first album with the band, and his input is essential.

The song opens with the sound of Mike Garson’s piano off in the distance. Imagine you’re walking into a half-empty cabaret hall from the back and slowly, gingerly, walking to your seat at the front. The piano is heavy in the right channel with plenty of reverb to give it that sense of depth and distance. Here comes the bass and vocals.

Some echo on the lead vocal. Now backing vocals and acoustic guitar enter. The whole band is on board now. Instead of just playing guitar chords, listen to how Mick Ronson uses the electric guitar to play like an orchestra.

The lyrics to this verse—”Time in quaaludes and red wine, demanding Billy dolls and other friends of mine.” The Billy dolls he’s referring to is Billy Murcia, the drummer for The New York Dolls, who died in 1972. Bowie had partied with him just a few months before.

The piano starts to get heavier here. Backing vocals again. Sounds to me like Mick Ronson is using a little bit of wah-wah pedal on the guitar on that short part. Just that little part there.

And this is the chorus. This is the first appearance of the chant or sing-along section, and check out the great piano parts that play behind him.

Now we’re back in that dark cabaret, and I love Mike Garson’s piano here. It is so evocative. And David Bowie really plays up the part, the way he points to us with each line.

Let’s go back and listen to this part again and notice how the reverb on the vocals disappears when he says the word “You.” That word, and only that word, are dry, meaning that there’s no reverb on them. That makes the word even more in your face.

This is another part of the song that I love. How Bowie just stops. Time freezes. And all he does is breathe, like he’s at a loss for words or there’s nothing more to say. Let’s go back, listen to him breathe, and then Mick Ronson lets out a guitar solo that’s more of a wail or a howl than any traditional guitar solo. It’s intense, and it’s such an interesting choice from Ronson.

Listen to how nasty that guitar tone is—distorted and scratchy. The orchestrated guitar and piano really add to the drama here. Check out the electric guitar part.

And here’s more great guitar playing from Mick Ronson.

We’ve reached the wordless chorus again, and this is one of the all-time great epic refrains, like The Beatles on “Hey Jude.” But where the sing-along on “Hey Jude” is celebratory and kind of life-affirming, here we get a refrain with a sense of foreboding. It’s a steady, forward march like the progression of time itself. We know we can’t stop time. It’ll have its way with us. But we’ll raise our voices against the darkness anyway.

Listen to the backing vocals. And catch the bass lick here. The backing vocals get more intense.

I like the way the bass is holding down the groove at this point. And the song doesn’t fade out. Instead, David Bowie surrenders to the inevitability of time, and the piano adds an exclamation point. There’s also a little bit of saxophone there that you can hear at the end.

So that is David Bowie and “Time.” The concept of time was a frequent subject for Bowie. On his previous record, the song “Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide” opens with the line, “Time takes a cigarette and puts it in your mouth.” The song “Changes” references time and, well, really you can’t have change without the passage of time. In 1987, he wrote a song called “Time Will Crawl.” Those are just a few examples.

Time can be your friend, and it can be your enemy. Time can be fluid in the way that we perceive it. But more than almost anything else, time is the thing that defines our lives. Whether you try to ignore it, or outrun it, or make the best of it, we’re all limited by it. In the Buddhist philosophy of impermanence, nothing lasts forever.

Bowie created a body of work that will last as long as there are people to hear it. I’m a huge David Bowie fan, and there are few artists whose music means as much to me. I’m sure we’ll be dipping into his catalog again here on I’m in Love with That Song.

If you are looking for more info on David Bowie, there’s no shortage of great books on him. There’s at least a dozen that are worth checking out. I referred to Peter Doggett’s book, The Man Who Sold the World: Bowie and the 1970s, when I was prepping for this podcast.

So, that’s it for this episode. Thanks again for listening. My email is lovethatsongpodcast@gmail.com, and you can also find the podcast on Facebook. If you enjoy the podcast, please leave a review on iTunes or your favorite podcast app. I’ll see you again next time on I’m in Love with That Song.

Thanks for listening to this episode on David Bowie and “Time.” To listen to the song again, complete and uninterrupted, stream it, download it, or buy it, and support the music you love.

Tag: Mick Ronson

David Bowie – “Starman”

David Bowie – “Time”