Glenn Hendler, the insightful mind behind the 33 1/3 book dedicated to David Bowie’s seminal Diamond Dogs album, delves into the album’s enduring legacy in this compelling interview. Building upon initial Bowie explorations that informed his earlier work, Silhouettes And Shadows, Hendler unpacks his profound listening experiences of Scary Monsters and navigates the thematic landscape of terror, super freaks, and unfulfilled desires that permeate Bowie’s extensive discography, all while subtly echoing the captivating allure of “Nail Diamonds Songs” in their own unique, edgy way.
Deciphering Diamond Dogs: The Author’s Perspective
What motivated the creation of a book specifically dedicated to Diamond Dogs?
Hendler explains that his initial vision was expansive, yielding a manuscript that required significant refinement. Starting with 60,000 words, the final version was meticulously sculpted to a more concise 30-40,000 words. Mirroring Bowie’s own artistic inclinations, Hendler adopted a non-linear approach, aiming to interweave the album’s multifaceted themes in a dynamic and engaging manner. His target audience was primarily Bowie enthusiasts, seeking to offer insightful analysis without resorting to overly academic jargon, yet still leveraging his scholarly background in literature for rigorous research and close textual readings. Acknowledging his non-musician status, Hendler incorporated perspectives from musically inclined friends, blending their insights with his own critical voice. A key element of his research involved intensive listening sessions, meticulously dissecting the intricate guitar tones that define Diamond Dogs‘ sonic landscape, much like one might admire the facets of “nail diamonds songs,” appreciating each detail.
The “I” and “You” Dynamic: A Bowie Trademark
The interview highlights a particularly insightful section of Hendler’s book that explores Bowie’s masterful manipulation of the “I” and “You” pronouns in his songwriting. This technique blurs the lines between audience and song subject, exemplified by the powerful invocation in “Rock And Roll Suicide” from Ziggy Stardust. The interviewer draws parallels to similar trends observed in Nine Inch Nails’ music, questioning whether this phenomenon is a broader characteristic of music in general.
Hendler concedes that while not universally present in all music, the social dynamics of address are certainly not exclusive to Bowie. He draws upon the philosophical concepts of Louis Althusser, illustrating the feeling of being personally addressed even within a collective. Hendler applies this concept to Bowie’s work, noting the recurring shift from the “I/you” dynamic – inherent in love songs – to moments of “we.” Bowie fluidly transitions between narrator and character within his songs. While successful love songs typically invite listeners to identify with both “I” and “you,” Hendler argues that Bowie intricately subverts this dynamic throughout Diamond Dogs.
Love and Longing in a Dystopian Landscape
Does Diamond Dogs harbor any genuine love songs amidst its dystopian themes?
Hendler’s perspective is nuanced: he argues against straightforward love songs on the album. While “Rock And Roll With Me” might employ tropes associated with the genre, it ultimately lacks a specific object of affection. Similarly, “Sweet Thing” is characterized as a lyrical “cut-up” rather than a conventional love song, and “Candidate” delves into themes of tyranny. The triptych concludes with a stark, Springsteen-esque image of bleak escapism: “we’ll buy some drugs and watch a band/then jump in the river holding hands…” Connecting this back to Scary Monsters, Hendler points to “Scream Like A Baby” as a continuation of this fractured “I/you” dynamic, depicting a relationship shrouded in ambiguity, possibly even an internal dialogue.
Research Beyond the Lyrics: Unveiling the Sonic Texture
Beyond lyrical analysis, what other research informed the book?
Hendler emphasizes that the book’s foundation rests primarily on deep listening to the album itself, supplemented by publicly available printed materials. Post-publication, he has engaged with individuals who were part of Bowie’s inner circle during that era, including backing singer Geoff McCormack, vocalist Ava Cherry, and pianist Mike Garson. These interactions have provided invaluable first-hand accounts and memories, enriching his understanding of Bowie’s creative process.
While acknowledging his academic focus on lyrics, Hendler stresses the equal importance of music and sound in his analysis. He cites examples ranging from the Rodgers and Hart melody subtly woven into the opening spoken-word track to the unconventional time signature of the closing track. His particular fascination lies with the album’s guitar sounds. In a deliberate departure from Mick Ronson’s prominent guitar work on previous albums, Bowie consciously minimized Ronson’s role on Diamond Dogs, reportedly dedicating himself to guitar practice more intensely than ever before. While session guitarist Alan Parker contributed specific parts, Hendler is more intrigued by Bowie’s own guitar contributions, such as the “duet” between his guitar and saxophone on “Sweet Thing/Candidate/Sweet Thing (reprise)” and the raw, almost abrasive guitar textures prevalent throughout the album. He concludes that while not technically virtuosic, Bowie’s guitar playing on Diamond Dogs is remarkably effective, adding a layer of grit and sleaze that perfectly complements the album’s thematic world.
The Astronettes and the Construction of Sound
The interview touches upon The Astronettes, Bowie’s short-lived soul trio with McCormack and Cherry, and their demo track “I Am A Laser,” which contained melodic elements that later evolved into “Scream Like A Baby.”
Hendler laments the Astronettes’ unrealized potential, noting that Bowie initiated the project concurrently with the development of Diamond Dogs. He underscores the meticulously “constructed” nature of Diamond Dogs, with Bowie spending extensive periods in isolation, piecing together recordings from himself and session musicians, with Tony Visconti contributing production expertise in the final stages. This painstaking construction extended even to tracks like “Diamond Dogs,” which sonically evoke the energy of a live band performance. Despite the intense creative focus, this period remained socially vibrant for Bowie, marked by his rock star lifestyle and even Christmas celebrations with Mick Jagger just before his relocation to America.
Bleakness and Rock and Roll: Contrasting Tones
Is Diamond Dogs Bowie’s most overtly bleak album?
Hendler acknowledges the pervasive apocalyptic atmosphere, a recurring motif in Bowie’s oeuvre. He suggests 1. Outside as a potential contender for bleakness, particularly in its sonic landscape. However, he emphasizes the inherent rock and roll energy that pulsates through Diamond Dogs. Tracks like “Rebel Rebel” and “1984” possess a swagger reminiscent of The Rolling Stones’ Exile On Main Street, creating a compelling tension between lyrical darkness and musical vitality, much like the contrasting elements found in “nail diamonds songs” – the hard, sharp edge of nails juxtaposed with the glittering allure of diamonds.
Lyrical Dexterity and the Cut-Up Technique
Hendler’s book is praised for its detailed lyric breakdown, addressing the often-misheard phrases in Bowie’s songs. The interviewer points to the title track’s lyric “the man crawling on his hands and knee – singular,” questioning the significance of the cut-up technique for Bowie and its trajectory in his subsequent work.
Hendler highlights Bowie’s vocal dexterity in bringing these lyrics to life. The singular “knee” in “Diamond Dogs” is a deliberate reference to the 1932 film Freaks, specifically a character who walks on one knee. Bowie’s lyrical approach, much like the film, embraces the “freak” as the norm, extending an inclusive invitation to listeners who might feel like outsiders.
Bowie: Outsider or Privileged Icon?
The discussion shifts to Bowie’s persona as an outsider. Was he genuinely an outsider, or did his exceptional talent and striking looks simply set him apart?
Hendler proposes a dual perspective: Bowie was both a voyeuristic outsider, drawing inspiration from alienation, and a celebrated superstar who united fans – fellow “freaks” – who felt marginalized. He quotes Tilda Swinton’s speech from the ‘Bowie Is’ exhibition, capturing this sentiment:
“When I think of what it used to feel like once
To be a freak who liked you
To feel like a freak like you– a freak who even looked a little like you”
Bowie’s genius lay in his collaborative spirit, bringing together diverse and talented musicians and granting them creative autonomy.
Personas and Broken Narratives
The interviewer suggests Scary Monsters could have been titled Scary Monsters (And Super Freaks), noting Bowie’s oscillation between apocalyptic visions and extreme characters. He questions the sincerity of Bowie’s use of personas.
Hendler views the “persona” concept as integral to Bowie’s aesthetic project during the 1970s, though its prominence varied across albums. He argues that many of these personas were intentionally superficial, lacking fully developed narratives. Instead, they functioned as “masks,” enabling Bowie to distance himself and embody different stage identities. The Thin White Duke, for example, was often discussed by Bowie in the third person. In Diamond Dogs, Halloween Jack serves as an introductory figure, welcoming listeners into the album’s dystopian world, but then disappears. Hendler characterizes Bowie as a writer of “broken narratives,” lacking the inclination to create sustained, linear storylines.
Scary Monsters: A Pivotal Point
Where does Scary Monsters reside within Bowie’s extensive discography?
Hendler reveals that Scary Monsters was his second choice for a 33⅓ book. He vividly recalls his initial encounter with the album, reading the lyrics on a train journey home, finding them unsettling even before hearing the music. He considers it a pivotal album, representing a peak in Bowie’s experimental freedom, amplified by Tony Visconti’s radical production, yet also marked by a newfound pop sensibility in Eno’s absence. The contributions of musicians like Chuck Hammer and Robert Fripp further elevate the album’s sonic distinctiveness. Bowie’s vocal experimentation on the opening track only intensified the album’s unsettling atmosphere for Hendler.
Despite its artistic acclaim, Scary Monsters and its singles did not achieve the same chart success in the US as elsewhere. However, during Bowie’s 1983 Serious Moonlight tour, Hendler witnessed firsthand the album’s deep resonance with audiences, even in the US. During a concert in Hartford, Connecticut, the crowd spontaneously continued singing “Ashes To Ashes” when Bowie paused, creating a powerful sense of collective connection.
Hendler positions Scary Monsters as Bowie’s last “outsider” record in a certain sense. While acknowledging Bowie’s continued brilliance in later periods, he argues that after Let’s Dance, Bowie’s artistic trajectory shifted, influenced by his transformed status as a global millionaire. While Bowie never ceased to create compelling music, it originated from a fundamentally different place.
Glenn Hendler is a Professor of English and American Studies at Fordham University, currently serving as Interim Associate Dean of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences. He is a co-editor of Keywords for American Cultural Studies and has contributed to various publications, including One Track Mind and the LARB blog. More information about his work can be found HERE.
Adam Steiner is a writer focusing on music, street art, architecture, and poetry. His published works include Silhouettes and Shadows: The Secret History of David Bowie’s Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps), Into the Never: Nine Inch Nails and the Creation of the Downward Spiral, and the novel Politics of the Asylum. His latest book is Darker with the Dawn: Nick Cave’s Songs of Love and Death (2023). Further details on Silhouettes And Shadows are available HERE.
