j o e

"It was definitely murder - but was it art?" So begins the album that represents David Bowie's most experimental effort since the Scary Monsters days. Resurrecting the skewed pop aesthete of his Berlin trilogy albums, Outside reunited Bowie with collaborator Brian Eno for the first time in nearly two decades. Also on board are familiar faces, old and new. There's Berlin-era veteran Carlos Alomar brought back for rhythm guitar duties, and Reeves Gabrels, Bowie's main collaborator of the 90s, taking the lead guitar slot previously filled by such notables as Robert Fripp and Adrian Belew. A noirish work which can be absorbed effectively as a double-LP, Outside tells the tale of Detective Professor Nathan Adler investigating the "art-ritual murder" of Baby Grace Blue by way of several dubious characters, in a lengthy booklet narrative that quickly jets off in 360 degrees at once. The music does much the same thing, and is as excessive a document of art rock as it might have been in the 90s that one will probably find, with all the hits and misses that connotes. I'm sure you find that hard to believe, what, with song titles like "The Voyeur of Utter Destruction (As Beauty)." Anyway, "The Hearts Filthy Lesson" (perhaps remembered as the closing song in the movie "Se7en"), "A Small Plot of Land," "The Motel," "Voyeur...," and "I'm Deranged" (perhaps remembered as the opening song in David Lynch's Lost Highway) represent a return to form, providing some of Bowie's most compelling moments to date. Other tracks are actually quite accessible: "Outside," "I Have Not Been to Oxford Town," and "Thru' These Architects Eyes." Then there are those that just seem to eat up time, like "Hallo Spaceboy," "No Control" (Bowie does Ian Curtis?) and "Wishful Beginnings." The listener will have much to digest and appraise. To my understanding, this was originally intended to be the first album in a series, hence the "1" on the album cover, but the continuation of this saga never came to pass. However, I am not convinced the album needed a concept to begin with, as this merely tends to elongate it needlessly, particularly with those interludes where Bowie acts out the different characters of the narrative. Surely the music more than carries itself, and I have a feeling if edited down to a single album's length of prime cuts with no additional need for exposition, this would be a truly brilliant work. Notwithstanding, this self-described "non-linear Gothic Drama Hyper-cycle" is still a very impressive reassertion on the part of Bowie, and consistently commands respect, even during its lulls. review by Joe McGlinchey — 1-16-03 —