5pm_weds | twelve. [THEME: guilty pleasures from the 1980s]

New York's in Love
Artist: David Bowie
Album: Never Let Me Down
Year: 1987
♥: There is a period of David Bowie's career which, even among dorky uberfans such as myself, is generally swept under the rug and left undiscussed (even Bowie himself is embarrassed). "Are you sure he released an album after Labyrinth? Like ARE YOU SURE, because I don't think that EVER HAPPENED."

It did happen.

And it is glorious, magical, ridiculous, godawful 80s pop.

There is no trace of Aladdin Sane, Ziggy Stardust, or the cocaine-addled Thin White Duke on this album; no brilliant poetry or intelligent composition; no slow instrumentals or heartstopping brilliance. Yeah, no -- the only way you'd know this is Bowie is that unmistakable and undeniably gorgeous voice (honestly, about 1/3 of my heart is devoted to love of his voice). The timbre of his voice in the 80s is my favourite, and it comes out in full force on this album -- rich, vibrating, accented, wow.

So this album was one of the first I bought when I rediscovered my love for him in grade 11 and frantically sook out his entire discography (spring 2003; I'll never forget it -- without any exaggeration, that period of my Bowie obsession kickstarted the rest of my life). I was coming home from a karate symposium in London, ON, and my partner and I stopped in a secondhand CD shop before getting on the train. It's hard for me to consider the songs as separate entities because this entire album sounds pretty much the same, and I giddily listened to it for seven hours straight as we hurtled along the Windsor Corridor. There are two songs, however, which stick out like sore thumbs covered in hot pink bubblegum.

One is "Beat of Your Drum", and one is "New York's in Love", and it took until about five minutes ago to actually decide which one I was going to post. I probably prefer "Beat of Your Drum" -- it's got the kind of hook I love, and the lyrics are a bit less inane than the rest of the album (though...still pretty inane) -- but "New York's in Love" is pure springtime. BUT, since it's disgusting outside and I'm looking for something to remind me of summertime, and since I love the undeniable emotion at 0:49 ("New York's in loo-ve") ------

HERE WE GO.
It's pretty bad. The "koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo"s are especially ridiculous, and it's hard not to giggle at how terribly of its time it is, but something about it works. How he rolls his 'r's, how you can picture him dancing like a crazy person, how easily it makes you dance down the street to it (especially a city street: there have been many March/April struts down McGill College to this song, on my part, as sad as that may be to admit!). NEW YORK'S IN LOVE! You can see bad 80s fireworks (or maybe just cans of neon hairspray) exploding everywhere.

Plus: "Nothing left here but a raging blaze" is kinda keeping me going right now. Bowie has a habit of doing that -- 70s genius or not, hah.