...While I eat my scones and drink my cup of tea.

In case you haven't already been formally welcomed to 2014, welcome. I hope you've had an excellent holiday. For me, the holidays gave me plenty of time to play in the Bowieverse, and an enjoyable ride it has been!

If you want to know where in the Bowieverse I've been, the title of this post should give you some indication. I've been in David Bowie's England in 1967, it would seem. Because Bowie's self-titled album is decidedly British. And late 60's-ish. And dramatic. Filled with stories of lonely, silly, dreamy people. And a whole lot of fun, really, from start to finish. You might even say "I Dig Everything" on this album (haha, I made a Bowie joke. More on I Dig Everything another day).

Look at that wholesome young man! image source

The first four songs on the album are all smile generators. Take Uncle Arthur, for instance. "Uncle Arthur still reads comics, Uncle Arthur follows Batman". The tale of this lonely, nerdy twill suit-wearing man riding his bike home from work, past the High Street, home to Mother is not exactly a story of Space Oddity proportions, but an amusing one nonetheless. The quaint horned melody even sounds like a cartoon from the 60's.

The lightheartedness continues with Sell Me a Coat. I know this song has become one of my favourites because on Christmas Day, while I was standing in the bitter cold, brushing many inches of snow off the car, I began singing it to myself:

A winter's day, a bitter snowflake on my face
My summer girl takes little backward steps away

Jack Frost took her hand and left me, Jack Frost ain't so cool

Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat that's red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat 'cause I feel cold

Then things take another turn into Quaintsville-Avec-Horns with Rubber Band, the story of a man whose love left him while he was serving in WWI, and then married the leader of the band they used to listen to before the war, much to his chagrin. His despondent cry of "oh!" in the middle of the song and "I hope you break your baton" at the end elicits a giggle out of me nearly every time I listen to it.

My absolute favourite track is number four, Love You Till Tuesday. It's the unashamedly honest love song about a man whose passion burns so bright and so fast that the affair can only last a few days. The best part of this song has to be the verse that goes,

Who's that hiding in the apple tree, clinging to a branch
Don't be afraid it's only me, hoping for a little romance
If you lie beneath my shade, I'll keep you nice and cool

because you can literally hear the smile in his voice, right up until the moment he chuckles. Not to mention it's just super groovy baby, yeah!

There are a few songs on the album that upon first and second listens didn't really do it for me (We are Hungry Men, Little Bombardier, Come and Buy  My Toys) but have been growing on me. Others (Join the Gang, Maid of Bond Street) have that distinctly British flavour to them that makes me daydream of the times I spent wandering around the streets of London.

My third and final favourite song on David Bowie is When I Live My Dream. Stylistically, this track is not like the others... it's reminiscent of a movie musical, potentially starring Ewan McGregor. The line "Tell them I'm a dreaming kind of guy" just kills me and oozes a kind of McGregorness. This is just one of the unexpected impressions this song has left me with.

But the place this song really takes me to is a magical kingdom, much like Bowie describes in the lyrics, where dreams come true, and happiness is ever after. In fact, this song makes me wonder if David Bowie can see the future. Because each time I hear When I Live My Dream, I imagine Bowie as a younger, not-yet-into-kidnapping, Jareth the Goblin King from Labyrinth, singing to his Sarah about the beautiful life they will live together in a magical castle as he slays dragons to protect her. Seriously.

(Not an actual video, just the song. It's better this way, trust me.)

The album finishes on a rather sombre note with Please Mr. Gravedigger  (gee, ya think?). This a capella number with only the sounds of a thunderstorm for accompaniment tells the story of a lonely gravedigger who steals a lock of hair from a girl he buried in the graveyard, and the man who killed her ("very selfish, oh God"). And while it's not a particularly happy story, I find myself moved as Bowie talks to himself between verses and even sneezes a couple of times for dramatic effect. The dark, dramatic quality of this song and the story it tells leaves me wanting to start the album over again, every time.

(Ignore the images on the screen and just close your eyes and listen.)

Coming away from this album, I am enthralled with the Britishness of it, and the lack of pretention that allows Bowie's own character to shine through each little story he tells. He's a comedian, a dreamer, a Londoner, a dramatist, an observer, a lover, and a child at heart (I didn't even touch on the album's repeated theme of childhood, oh dear). 

I've had a lot of fun haunting old London town, traipsing down closes and alleys, looking for a coat to keep warm while I search for a magical castle to call home with a youthful and unjaded Jareth. Do I have to come home so soon?