The "Heroes" album in its entirety isn't necessarily going to be for everyone's taste but even if your palate doesn't quite reflect my own, there are a number of choice tracks with broad appeal.
"Heroes" was the second album of what is in retrospect called the Berlin trilogy. The first of that trilogy,
Low, is probably my favorite Bowie; "Heroes" was a strong followup that provided a more jarring approach in constrast to the meditative and sometimes drifting melancholy of its predecessor. Both are among the most important albums of Bowie's career.
If you've ever picked up one of the many
compilations of Bowie hits you've probably gotten the edited version of the title hit. Somehow "Heroes" doesn't sound right when it opens with the verse about swimming like dolphins. The most memorable lyrics are right there in the first verse of the full length version included here. The opening phrase that starts,
"I, I would be king, and you, you can be queen..."
But just in case the listener gets too carried away with the princess delusion, Bowie makes sure it gets right back down to earth...
"And you, you can be mean, and I, I'll drink all the time..."
The album opens with one of Bowie's choicest songs ever, the harrowing "Beauty and the Beast". That and "Heroes" are the two most accessible vocal numbers on the album. What used to be side two of the album is made up of four instrumentals, followed by one more vocal to wrap things up. "V-2 Schneider" will have the broadest appeal of the instrumentals. Those who had some Bowie's 45s from this era may remember it as a b-side as well. The song is a tribute to Florian Schneider of Kraftwerk, a kind of mutual recognition after Kraftwerk namechecked Bowie and Iggy Pop in the title song of their classic 1977
Trans Europe Express.
"Sense of Doubt" is a foreboding instrumental that someday will make its way to a film soundtrack I'm sure. It flows right into "Moss Garden", an evocative, atmospheric piece that is appealing as either foreground or background ambience. Close your eyes and you can almost feel the drips of water and the moisture in the air as you're transported to a peaceful solitude in some hanging gardens. This flows into the final instrumental, "Neukoln", which sounds like Bowie wrestling with his sax. What I appreciate most about this number is that so many lesser artists invoke the sax when they want a trite boogie sound or they want to, as Zappa put it,
"make a jazz noise here". Bowie's treatment of the sax is entirely off the map compared to most performers' limited roles for this instrument. Nowadays I tend to have a scorn for that most predictable of instruments, the sax, but Bowie avoided the trap of tedium with "Neukoln".
"Joe the Lion" and "Blackout" are jagged, angular rockers which no doubt jarred the old fans of his pub rock Ziggy Stardust sound. These aren't the most easily digested Bowie numbers for the casual fan accustomed to commercial radio fare, but numbers like this kept Bowie interesting and cemented his credibility in the face of the upcoming generation of punk rockers. As the promotional materials of the day read, "There's old wave, there's new wave, and there's David Bowie".
If, upon listening to the samples you find that you might prefer a more accessible Bowie album, I strongly recommend
Station To Station from the previous year, 1976. Only six songs but every song is top shelf Bowie, and the title track in particular is a showstopper. Or if you're more inclined toward the power crunch of guitar rockers, check out that little atom bomb,
Aladdin Sane.
Diamond Dogs from 1974 is a fan favorite as well, perhaps the most eloquent, eerie and erotic of Bowie's apocalyptic albums.
Just be warned, Bowie's best albums act like a gateway drug. Land one of those and before you know it you've picked up a half dozen more Bowie albums. Keep it up and you find that the Bowie section of your CD collection takes up a whole shelf in itself. Given this legacy, that's a very good thing.