David Bowie
Toy

When talking about David Bowie with music enthusiasts, two schools of thought often emerge: there are those who consider him a musical genius and those who see him as merely a "clever trickster." Mr. David Robert Jones, born in 1947, is perhaps one of the most ambiguous and difficult musicians of the 20th century to analyze: 25 studio albums behind him, continuous changes in musical genres, and the creation of various alter-egos that he crafted throughout his career (the first and most famous were Ziggy Stardust, Halloween Jack, and the Thin White Duke, but even in the '90s he reprised the old formula with Nathan Adler in "1.Outside"), legendary tours and concerts that quickly became part of contemporary music history, from the famous "death of Ziggy Stardust" in 1973 to the abrupt interruption of the 2004 tour due to a heart attack. Bowie was more than anyone else the inventor of the ever-excessive and always top-notch rockstar figure. He was what Madonna, Michael Jackson, and today’s Lady Gaga would later become in the '70s and early '80s, before entering the '90s with a renewed desire to experiment and reinvent himself, after a series of rather awful albums like "Never Let Me Down" and the two "Tin Machine" works. In short, perhaps musically he didn’t invent anything, but it can't be denied that he left an indelible mark on pop culture, and still today no one else like him has managed to reconcile commercial music and auteur music so well.

In 2000, after completing the tour for the album "Hours...", David Bowie broke ties with his guitarist Reeves Gabriels (co-author of the album and a friend with whom he had collaborated since '88) and embarked on a new project: the recording of an album of self-covers, old songs written between '64 and '68, before "Space Oddity," his first, historic success. The record company was terrified at the idea of such an album; the executives feared a commercial disaster and rejected the project. An enraged Bowie left the record company to found his own label with which he would release his last two albums "Heathen" (2002) and "Reality" (2003). The abandoned project was supposed to see the light in 2001, under the name "Toy." Many songs from that album have been circulating since 2002 because they were included as B-Sides on the singles from Heathen, while two others ("Uncle Floyd," re-recorded and renamed "Slip Away," and "Afraid," the only two tracks on "Toy" specifically written for the album) were included in the track listing of Heathen itself.

The existence of this ghost album was known only to fans until, in March 2011, with a 10-year delay from the original plans, the album mysteriously appeared online, accessible to everyone! All that's left is to download it and hit play! It starts with "Uncle Floyd," a song that fans already know by heart thanks to its inclusion on Heathen... yet, this take is infinitely superior to the one on the other album, with a poorer sound and Bowie's voice so distant yet so warm at the same time, the text so engaging... it was since "Word On A Wing" that we hadn't heard such a beautiful song, and this is his new "Life On Mars," without a shadow of a doubt. "Afraid," with guitars, keyboards, and drums going full throttle, is the same version found on "Heathen," disappointing for those hoping for an alternative version like the first track but still remains a good song that "gives the right charge." "Baby Loves That Way," the first self-cover, is a remake of an old 1965 single, a typical '60s British pop rearranged with sharp electric guitars, great rhythm, and charm, it's the kind of song that puts you in a good mood, always a pleasure to listen to again. "I Dig Everything" was written and released in '66 as a single, the drum crescendo is delightful but despite the modern arrangements, you can tell it's from another era, though that's no bad thing for a (self-)celebratory album. "Conversation Piece": definitely better than the previous two in both text and music, one of the most mature and beautiful pieces of the entire album, written between '68 and '69 and discarded at the last minute from the second album "Space Oddity," a little 3.5-minute gem.

"Let Me Sleep Beside You" could have worked perfectly in '69 but now, unfortunately, it comes across as merely charming and nothing more. "Toy (Your Turn To Drive)" was reportedly written according to official sources in the '60s and never recorded until the "Toy" sessions; it stands up well against Bowie's modern songs, so much so that it was released on iTunes as a bonus track for "Reality." "Hole In The Ground," another gem from the album and the only "Toy" track truly unreleased until the album's publication, the author compares it to "Never Get Old," Bowie's last hit in 2003, in terms of rhythm and music, and considers it superior. "Shadow Man" was discarded at the last moment from three major albums ("The Man Who Sold The World," "Hunky Dory," and "Ziggy Stardust") and if it had been released then, today it would probably be a classic from Bowie's repertoire, arguably the most intense on the entire album. "In The Heat Of The Morning" was written in '68 and is undoubtedly one of the best songs of those years, and the modern version does it full justice, in the hope that it will be rediscovered as it is quite an obscure track in his career. "You Have Got A Habit Of Leaving" is the simplest and most commercial piece on the entire album and the text is the most banal, it's memorable but won't certainly make it into a future compilation. "Silly Boy Blue" competes with "Uncle Floyd" and "Shadow Man" for the best piece on the album. It previously appeared on the debut album of 1967 and remains essentially identical to the old version, yet it's still intense, engaging, and an extraordinary vocal performance by Mr. Jones. "Liza Jane" was a seventeen-year-old Bowie's (then still called David Jones) first single in 1964, it is on par with track number 11 but still offers the pleasure of hearing Bowie playing and having fun madly.

The album closes with "The London Boys," the most beautiful track from Bowie's '60s era, written in 1965 and released as a single with the Lower 3rd, presented here in a version very faithful to the original, but the way of interpreting the songs has changed: in the '60s David Jones sang, today David Bowie "performs" his tracks. Drum roll, final chord, the last notes fade, and the album concludes. The final judgment is certainly not easy: you're listening to a work released with a 10-year delay and that already featured 30-year-old songs at the time of its creation. What is "Toy"? The title itself tells us, it's a toy, Bowie is playing, redoing himself, perhaps to prove that there isn't a void before "Space Oddity" or maybe because he's facing an inspiration crisis. The fact remains that the individual versions of the tracks on this album are of excellent quality, but taken together, it's hard to envision enormous commercial success (possibly the reason Virgin canceled the album's release). Fans will certainly find much to enjoy, especially since this album finally sees the light 8 years after the last release of the Thin White Duke, and breaking the silence is always welcome, especially for an artist like this.

This album can be interpreted as one sees fit; it can be considered a mere cash grab or a brilliant stroke, certainly, 10 years ago it would have sparked very interesting discussions. It’s not certain if there will be an official release in the future, the only sure thing is that an artist who has contributed so much to the world of music and contemporary culture can afford an album of pure relaxation every now and then, that leaves strong contrasting feelings once the listening is over but manages to satisfy much more than other previous or subsequent works (Reality primarily). If this were his last album, there would be bitterness because it's not worthy of some old masterpieces, but the reuse of the earliest written songs gives us a sense of a "closing circle" that few artists have been (and may be) able to boast at the end of their careers.