Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) (1980)

After that whole Berlin thing happened, Bowie wasn’t thrilled to see his fortunes diminishing after a general lack of hits (“Heroes” excluded, but even that wasn’t as big as it should have been). A change of location and tactics were in order. The gang decamped to New York, sans Brian Eno but once again with Robert Fripp (who sat out Lodger). For the first time in ages, Bowie began writing material in advance of the recording process instead of just showing up and relying heavily on studio spontaneity and collaborative input. With the majority of the Berlin musicians still onboard, the songs retain the discordant feel of albums past while finding new focus in the arrangements and melodies. Robert Fripp essentially ran wild, smattering tracks with unbridled guitar histrionics and noise, but underneath the squall, the rhythm section found new strength in tight, funk-driven arrangements. Bowie was essentially cherry-picking his back catalog for ideas, revisiting and condensing the highlights of his previous five albums — the soul underpinnings of Young Americans and Station to Station met with the art-damaged escapism of Low, “Heroes”, and Lodger to create a new hybrid. Tony Visconti’s production marked a leap forward, the pounding drums and bass setting a new standard at the dawn of the decade for New Wave and danceable pop. Like magic, Bowie’s commercial aspirations were met and probably exceeded: the crystalline space-funk of “Ashes to Ashes” became a massive hit on his home soil, thanks in part to its expensive, elaborate music video. Scary Monsters was Bowie in a reflective, reflexive mode (similar to what he just did on The Next Day but to exponentially superior effect): “Ashes to Ashes” brought the return of the long-absent Major Tom, who’d become a junkie in the intervening years since “Space Oddity” (as well as a thinly veiled metaphor for heroin). “Teenage Wildlife” was essentially a “Heroes” redux, featuring the same basic structure and a familiar lead guitar from Robert Fripp. But for all the backward looks, the overall impact is new, fresh, and invigorating. This would be the last of Bowie’s truly great records — it still stands as one of his best, a fitting capstone for a shining decade of accomplishment.