Tim Brough's Black Leather Bookshelf

When Bowie Met Brian in Berlin
4 Out Of 5 Stars

Executing a course change that was extreme even by David Bowie's madcap standards, the first of his trio of albums with Brian Eno turned Bowie into a cold man-machine working against often dissonant electronics and half the time without even singing a note. "Low" gave Bowie the space to swing as hard towards an avant-garde as he could, with Eno more than happy to pave the way.

Bowie, when he does sing, operates more as a song-speaker than his traditional rich singing. Only "Low's" single, "Sound and Vision," has the shimmer of music that matches the voice, other times, like "Warszawa," he's just chanting. (Is it any wonder Phillip Glass based a whole album around "Low" and this song in particular?) Even "Sound and Vision" tests the limits of Bowie's audiences, the jangle of the guitar hook goes on for about 90 seconds before Bowie chimes in.

"Low" is definitely a collaboration and, of the 'Berlin' period of albums with Eno, the one that weighs heaviest towards Eno's solo album soundscapes. The second half of the CD is mainly that sort of sculpting, until the very end when Bowie coos for Shirley briefly on "Subterraneans." It's a chilly underground Bowie was searching for, and although "Low" doesn't hit the heights the following "Heroes" did (and that album is an unabashed classic), it still has the ability to evoke a deep resonance among those divided on how Eno and Bowie propelled each other towards a creative apex.