SPACE ODDITY [AKA: DAVID BOWIE, MAN OF WORDS / MAN OF MUSIC]

SPACE ODDITY is, of course, not a prog album, but I must admit it almost felt like one when I first discovered it in the 1970s. Not that it featured a plethora of sudden tempo changes or screaming synthesizer solos. It was the EXUBERANT CLIMAXES wot did it! As a sentimental teenager I felt that prog's greatest triumphs lay in the dramatic finales to extended compositions like "Ritual" and "Supper's Ready". And on SPACE ODDITY the young Bowie seemed to provide the same sort of thing in "Cygnet Committee". This track is nearly ten minutes long, so surely you could call it Bowie's very own epic? I mean, most of its excitement is provided by Bowie's voice (backed by acoustic guitar, bass and drums) which goes from slow, cabaret-like singing to rapid, anguished shouting: surely that's excitement enough already? To top it all, you get Mr Rick Wakeman accompanying our hero and going berserk on electric harpsichord. Surely all this is proggier than "Cans and Brahms"?

The remainder of the album cannot lay claim to any prog credentials, even though mellotron freaks will be familiar with the title track. It is filled with sensitive (and occasionally sentimental) acoustic and theatrical ballads, and there's at least one song ("Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed") which clearly foreshadows Bowie's glam rock phase, although it goes on for a little too long. I'm also fond of the starry-eyed "Memory of A Free Festival", which almost sounds like a Jon Anderson solo song. Ah, Youth...