"ZIGGY STARDUST" DAVID BOWIE (1972)

A great title track is par for the course when it comes to great albums. If the title track doesn’t cut it, what does that say about the album itself? This month, the Mental Jukebox will be playing some of my favorite title tracks – inspired by @NicolaB_73’s music Twitter challenge, #TopTitleTracks.

I don’t think I could ever summarize the impact that “Ziggy Stardust” has had on rock & roll in just a couple of paragraphs. But I’ll say this. When I was in high school, a half-decent set of musicians played it at Battle of the Bands and the thing was powerful. They weren’t exceptional. They weren’t in sync. But they unlocked Bowie’s emotion, ingenuity and attitude. That’s the power of Ziggy. In many ways, the song, like the main character, helped save rock & roll.

To really understand Ziggy’s power, you just have to look at two elements: the guitar and the vocals. The opening line in the first verse sets the tone: “As Ziggy played guitar…”. The song is a force to be reckoned with because of the riffs. Mick Ronson shreds his way through one of the most guitar-driven songs from the Bowie canon – and it is an ode to the electric guitar in many ways. Then there’s Bowie himself who croons and cries his way through the verses and chorus, a lyrical masterpiece that reminds us why we got into rock ‘n roll in the first place.

“Making love with his ego, Ziggy sucked up into his mind.”

"BOTH ENDS BURNING" ROXY MUSIC (1975)

The decade in which I was born has given me a strange perspective on its music. I discovered pretty much all of the 70’s sounds – from prog rock to punk to disco – well after they came into the world. It wasn’t until the late 80’s that I discovered what I was missing. I would characterize the decade as one where budding genres leaped off their inspiration pads and came to fruition. For the month of February, Mental Jukebox will feature some of these gems with a different 70’s song each day. #28DaysOf70sSongs

There’s a scene in the music documentary Depeche Mode 101 where frontman David Gahan is singing gleefully to Roxy Music’s “Love is the Drug” while playing pinball. It would be easy to gloss over that scene because, on the surface, it seems meaningless. An extra shot thrown in to show the band unwinding behind stage. But it’s actually much more than that. It’s a poignant reminder that Roxy Music is an important band that went beyond glam rock and impeccable style. They are inspiration to many new wave bands and the genre’s various iterations. The influences can be heard throughout the Siren album, including the track “Both Ends Burning”.

While David Gahan’s vocals sound eerily similar to Bryan Ferry’s approach in “Love is the Drug”, you can make the argument that Duran Duran’s Simon Le Bon sings like Ferry does in “Both Ends Burning”. In fact, the song sounds like a foreshadowing of early Duran Duran. The rhythm section, in particular, sounds like an early glimpse of John Taylor’s bass hooks and Roger Taylor’s drumbeats. The shimmery synth interludes have Nick Rhodes written all over them and the guitar riff finds the right moments to shine just like Andy Taylor did in the 80’s. Hearing back “Both Ends Burning” today, it’s a marvel to know Roxy Music created this a good 7 years before Duran Duran made their big entry into new wave. “Both Ends Burning” and the entire Siren album were a launch pad for many great bands to follow.

“Both ends burning and I can't control the fires raging in my soul tonight.”

"PANIC IN DETROIT" DAVID BOWIE (1973)

The decade in which I was born has given me a strange perspective on its music. I discovered pretty much all of the 70’s sounds – from prog rock to punk to disco – well after they came into the world. It wasn’t until the late 80’s that I discovered what I was missing. I would characterize the decade as one where budding genres leaped off their inspiration pads and came to fruition. For the month of February, Mental Jukebox will feature some of these gems with a different 70’s song each day. #28DaysOf70sSongs

I’m a Ziggy Stardust guy all the way. As prolific as Bowie was in the 70s, it’s the only album of his that I truly enjoy from beginning to end. But my next favorite album is probably Aladdin Sane. It’s glammy at times. But it also rocks pretty hard at other times. Most Bowie albums have a couple of songs that outshine the others, but there was a consistency about Aladdin Sane that was unmatched by his other records. Still, I’m most drawn to the hard-edged “Panic in Detroit”.

It all starts with the guitar work. Widely considered one of the best session players of all time, Mick Ronson shined here. “Panic in Detroit” is considered essential listening for Ronson enthusiasts. His guitar solo starts at the 3:15 mark and captures the imagination of the Detroit riots that inspired the song. At one point, the solo evokes the rise of smoke and flames. At another, it sounds like a symphony of sirens. The backing vocals are fierce, like chants in the uprising. The percussion lays down a steady, insistent drum roll and congas that make it feel like the panic will never end. And then there’s Bowie. Being cool, just being Bowie.

“He looked a lot like Che Guevara. Drove a diesel van. Kept his gun in quiet seclusion. Such a humble man.”

"SATELLITE OF LOVE" LOU REED (1972)

Inspired by Albumism, I’m doing my own version of Flying Solo with individual tracks. Band breakups and hiatuses are never fun, but these solo jams were defining moments in my life’s soundtrack.

The best thing about Transformer and “Satellite of Love” is that they’re strikingly similar to the Velvet Underground aesthetic. In fact, the track was previously recorded as a Velvet Underground demo for Loaded. And then it was rerecorded for Transformer while the band was technically still together at the time.

What “Satellite” did, as many Lou Reed songs do, was take a simple rock song with a relatively simple song construction and add elements that gave it an air of unfamiliarity and uniqueness. That was Reed’s magical formula. And the potion for this one was an unusual story, a bridge that seems to come out of nowhere and the bubbly falsetto backing vocal.

“I've been told that you've been bold with Harry, Mark and John. Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday through Thursday with Harry, Mark and John.”

"ZIGGY STARDUST" DAVID BOWIE (1972)

I don’t think I could ever summarize the impact that “Ziggy Stardust” has had on rock & roll in a single paragraph. But I’ll say this. When I was in high school, a half-decent set of musicians played it at Battle of the Bands and the thing was powerful. They weren’t exceptional. They weren’t in sync. But they unlocked Bowie’s emotion, ingenuity and attitude. That’s the power of Ziggy. In many ways, the song, like the main character, helped save rock & roll.

“Making love with his ego, Ziggy sucked up into his mind. Like a leper messiah, when the kids had killed the man I had to break up the band.”

"PERFECT DAY" LOU REED (1972)

Not a single guitar chord to be heard. There’s just something very unrock and roll about “Perfect Day”. But there is MIchael Ronson’s piano interlude. A stunning string arrangement. A tuba. And a song that was nothing like the Velvet Underground. It was Lou Reed’s poem about his girl. It wasn’t about heroin. It was about a perfect day with a girl and sangria in the park. What Reed wrote and sang is exactly what he meant.

“Just a perfect day. You made me forget myself. I thought I was someone else, someone good.”