Diamond Dogs – Let’s take a walk through a cruel, romantic and feral world. #MusicisLife #TedTocksCovers #DavidBowie

Allow me to introduce you to yet another fascinating David Bowie persona that made a brief appearance about 50 years ago and left quite an impression.

In short, Halloween Jack is a real cool cat.

He lives on the top of ‘Manhattan Chase’ which is a clever little twist on the well-known New York City landmark; One Chase Manhattan Plaza.

On this day in 1974, David Bowie released ‘Diamond Dogs’. Like every truly great artist this recording represented a progression in Bowie’s career. The Halloween Jack character and the material presented on ‘Diamond Dogs’ were both an evolution of David Bowie’s three previous albums. Perhaps most significantly, the character rose from the ashes of the ‘Ziggy Stardust’ era. That is one difficult act to follow. Yet he did. Not only that, but ‘Diamond Dogs’ was also the first album since ‘David Bowie’ not to include guitarist, Mick Ronson. In order to balance that loss, David Bowie reunited with the multi-talented, Tony Visconti. In hindsight, ‘Diamond Dogs’ is considered the final album of his glam rock phase before he entered the increasingly experimental funk and soul period which began with ‘Young Americans’ one year later.

Looking back at the salient ‘Changes’ that seem to define the David Bowie ascension to legend status, they seem to go well beyond the characters he portrayed. It is here that that the musical style that accompanied his transformation enhance the material. It becomes about substance and with ‘Diamond Dogs’, both the album and the song, there is a raw Rolling Stones influence.

Enjoy this live version from a show soon after the release of ‘Diamond Dogs’ and you will detect the Stones style.

Everything was distilled to the lowest common denominator and cleverly presented in a post- apocalyptic or zombie land scene.

Lyrically speaking it goes well beyond. ‘Diamond Dog’ begins with ‘Future Legend’ which was famously influenced by William S. Burroughs. As the curtain rises, this poetry depicts the surreal scene which remains etched on the listener’s mind throughout the album.

And in the death
As the last few corpses lay rotting on the slimy thoroughfare
The shutters lifted an inch in temperance building, high on Poacher’s Hill
And red mutant eyes gazed down on Hunger City
No more big wheels
Fleas the size of rats sucked on rats the size of cats
And ten thousand peoploids split into small tribes
Coveting the highest of the sterile skyscrapers
Like packs of dogs assaulting the glass fronts of Love-Me Avenue
Ripping and re-wrapping mink and shiny silver fox, now legwarmers
Family badge of sapphire and cracked emerald
Any day now, the year of the Diamond Dogs
“This ain’t rock and roll! This is genocide!”

We are literally crawling through the alley with David Bowie and with each step we understand;

This ain’t rock ‘n’ roll, this is genocide!

Joining us for the journey through zombie land are the ‘Diamond Dogs’, but don’t get too comfortable because one thing is definite.

You are not protected.

Read on…



As they pulled you out of the oxygen tent
You asked for the latest party
With your silicone hump and your ten inch stump
Dressed like a priest you was
Tod Browning’s Freak you was
Crawling down the alley on your hands and knee
I’m sure you’re not protected, for it’s plain to see
The Diamond Dogs are poachers and they hide behind trees
Hunt you to the ground they will, mannequins with kill appeal

(Will they come?) I’ll keep a friend serene
(Will they come?) Oh baby, come on to me
(Will they come?) Well, she’s come, been and gone
Come out of the garden, baby
You’ll catch your death in the fog
Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs
Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs

The Halloween Jack is a real cool cat
And he lives on top of Manhattan Chase
The elevator’s broke, so he slides down a rope
Onto the street below, oh Tarzan, go man go
Meet his little hussy with his ghost town approach
Her face is sans feature, but she wears a Dali brooch
Sweetly reminiscent, something mother used to bake
Wrecked up and paralysed, Diamond Dogs are stabilised

(Will they come?) I’ll keep a friend serene
(Will they come?) Oh baby, come on to me
(Will they come?) Well, she’s come, been and gone
Come out of the garden, baby
You’ll catch your death in the fog
Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs
Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs

(Oh-oh-ooh) call them the Diamond Dogs
(Oh-oh-ooh) call them the Diamond Dogs
Oh, hoo!
Ah ooh!

In the year of the scavenger, the season of the bitch
Sashay on the boardwalk, scurry to the ditch
Just another future song, lonely little kitsch
(There’s gonna be sorrow) try and wake up tomorrow

(Will they come?) I’ll keep a friend serene
(Will they come?) Oh baby, come on to me
(Will they come?) Well, she’s come, been and gone
Come out of the garden, baby
You’ll catch your death in the fog
Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs
Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs

Oh-oh-ooh, call them the Diamond Dogs
Oh-oh-ooh, call them the Diamond Dogs
Bow-wow, woof woof, bow-wow, wow
Call them the Diamond Dogs
Dogs!
Call them the Diamond Dogs, call them, they call them
Call them the Diamond Dogs, call them, call them, ooh hoo!
Call them the Diamond Dogs
Keep cool, Diamond Dogs rule, OK
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
(Beware of the Diamond Dogs)
(Beware of the Diamond Dogs)
(Beware of the Diamond Dogs)
(Beware of the Diamond Dogs)”

This is why, fifty years later it is still held up for its influence on the punk scene, and this is likely where the significance lies.

While reading through a series of well written commentaries related to ‘Diamond Dogs’ the assessment by C.M Crockford in PunkNews.org really stood out.

As he later noted it was extremely influential on the British punk scene in sound and scope. Bowie’s violent, amateurishly scraping guitar playing here would be echoed in the late-70’s post-punk bands and Diamond Dogs’ concept of street gangs roaming London was echoed in the gleeful nihilism of the Sex Pistols. Notably Bowie made much of the album itself, including guitar and sax, and the musicianship here is unconventional, playful, a little off-kilter (one suspects Bowie was listening to Here Come the Warm Jets closely). Diamond Dogs is the goofy, abrasive place where punk and art-rock meet, dance a little, and depart.”

It is the closing line of Crockford’s review that really grabbed me.

When you listen to Diamond Dogs, you’re immersed in a cruel, romantic, and feral world, one that at its worst you still don’t want to leave.”

Isn’t this the world where we all live…and remain? We can see the train about to derail and the eyes of those who have predicted this fate are intently glued to the tracks.

And the zombie cult remains oblivious.

Perspective on ‘Diamond Dogs’ as a single was not always so positive; especially from the critics of the day who may have seen Bowie’s transformation as a sign of a diminishing career. How wrong they were.

Here is one example of the negative side of the mixed reviews from Roy Carr and Charles Shaar Murray of New Music Express. They speak to ‘Diamond Dogs in the context of its release as a commercial piece rather than focusing on its role in setting the album’s backdrop. It is true that ‘Diamond Dogs’ was the follow up single to ‘Rebel Rebel’ but the fact that it clocked in at six minutes and did not fare as well on the U.K. charts as some of Bowie’s predecessors is a narrow minded approach to analyzing the song’s significance.

As a potential hit single, the title track from Diamond Dogs was something of a non-event. Too long, too bleak in vision, too tough to dance to… you know the drill.”

Perhaps they were in a race to proclaim David Bowie as a ‘real cool cat’ who had seen better days?

It is interesting to note that any issue related to the length of side A of the single was somewhat balanced by the decision to release a re-recorded version of ‘Holy Holy’ as the B-side. ‘Holy Holy’ was initially written following the release of ‘The Man Who Sold the World’ and failed to chart. It was updated with the intention to be used for ‘Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars’, but was dropped from that album. It finally found a home as a companion piece to ‘Diamond Dogs’.

Sensitivity to the length of ‘Diamond Dogs’ entered into the consideration of RCA Records who released ‘Diamond Dogs’ to a shockingly abrupt 2:58 as a single in Australia. This hatchet job is borderline criminal.

At the time ‘Diamond Dogs’ may have been one of those albums that appealed to the most devout of David Bowie enthusiasts, however, after a few listens, it became an album that music fans point to as pivotal. Bowie’s massive popularity was more than enough to take the album all the way to #1 in the U.K. and #5 in the United States. 50 years later the ‘Diamond Dogs’ recording is seen as yet another example of the David Bowie vision.

To add to this complexity, it is well known that during this period David Bowie was working on several projects. In late 1973, Rolling Stone published an insightful interview with William S. Burroughs which telegraphed some of Bowie’s thought processes. Plans to create a ‘Ziggy Stardust’ musical were floated but never came to fruition, nor did an adaptation of George Orwell’s classic novel, ‘1984’. What was to be a made for TV presentation was ultimately quashed by Orwell’s widow, Sonia who owned the rights and refused Bowie, permission while she was still alive. This decision infuriated Bowie.

All was not lost, because it was Orwell’s bleak futuristic imagery that lay the groundwork for the bleak ‘Diamond Dogs’ concept. In addition to ‘Future Legend’, ‘Diamond Dogs’ and “Rebel Rebel’, here is ‘1984’ itself.

Someday they won’t let you, now you must agree
The times they are a-telling and the changing isn’t free
You’ve read it in the tea leaves, and the tracks are on TV
Beware the savage jaw of 1984

Beware the savage jaw. How ominous.

With the benefit of hindsight, it was like he had planted a garden of concepts and out of that came ‘Diamond Dogs’.

David Bowie was defiant in his resolve to share his art, one way or another.

To get a sense of David Bowie’s head space at the time, pay attention to this 1974 appearance on ‘The Dick Cavett Show’.

He is commanding and he exudes confidence.

Now compare and contrast Bowie as a performer to Bowie as an interview subject. In the clip below,  Cavett tries to gather some depth from the artist. David Bowie is initially reluctant to offer much more than a superficial connection, but he begins to open up.

I am not very academic but I glit from one thing to another.”

The word glit momentarily confuses Cavett, but Bowie quickly explains his choice of words.

Later Bowie reveals that his latest art was inspired by a combination of influences, tossing in the revelation that he ‘nicked’ the idea for the cover concept after checking out a book of art by Belgian artist, Guy Peellaert. He casually mentions that he was at Mick Jagger’s house at the time.

The takeaway here, is that David Bowie was looking for a vehicle to drive his concept and at every turn he was able to find little nuggets to ‘nick’. Little by little he was able to carve away the stone and share his creation.

Here is the interview.

When Guy Peellaert’s cover art was put on display in record shop windows some were shocked to see Bowie presented as half dog, half human. Naturally, it caused quite a stir when people noticed the exposed genitalia. It was subsequently airbrushed from the sleeve, but some made their way into circulation. Fifty years later these albums are extremely rare and quite valuable, going for up to $8000-$10,000.

Art comes in many forms. When it all comes down to it, those who present their offerings have a keen sense of their surroundings and when their work is complete, they bring their vision to our eyes and ears.

It is up to us to interpret the meaning, and ultimately to choose whether we derive pleasure from the work. Commercial acceptance is never the primary goal.

True gratification is derived from the fulfillment they feel when they call the work complete and ready for public consumption.

A new kind of ‘kitsch’ which is a word Bowie tucks away in the middle of ‘Diamond Dogs’

Kitsch is a German word for art that is garish, nostalgic, and very low-brow. For example, some people who love the aesthetics of souvenir culture think kitsch is really cool, while others think it’s commercial and abhorrent. It has been adopted into English, meaning worthless or tacky. In the end the term speaks to the perceived quality of the art.

Of course, it is always subjective and it comes down to the taste of the individual.

In his book ‘Rebel Rebel: All the songs of David Bowie’, Nicholas Pegg shared this assessment of ‘Diamond Dogs’.

They were all little Johnny Rottens and Sid Viciouses really. And, in my mind, there was no means of transport… So there were these gangs of squeaking, roller-skating, vicious hoods, with Bowie knives and furs on, and they were all skinny because they hadn’t eaten enough, and they all had funny-coloured hair. In a way, it was a precursor to the punk thing.

What Bowie is saying is, in the end some from his own audience became the ‘Diamond Dogs’. It manifested itself as punk and new wave, almost like they needed a nod of approval. Just one more example of art imitating life, and life imitating art.

Continuing with the thesis related to the half century range of David Bowie influence three relatively unique artist representing different musical genres have been selected.

First, take a listen to Duran Duran. They released ‘Diamond Dogs’ as a bonus track on the Japanese release of their 1995 album of cover songs entitled ‘Thank You’. A deeper exploration allowed me to discover this viscious panning of ‘Thank You’ by Anthony Barnes of The Independent.

Duran Duran was the one that united everyone in agreement. We put it on in the office to remind ourselves how bad it was. Sometimes these things are redeemed by some sort of kitsch or novelty value, but it didn’t even have that. It’s not funny for even a split second and not even the sort of thing that you would put on for a laugh if you were drunk.”

Kitsch…There’s that word again.

In direct contrast to this sentiment, I will share what I consider to be a quality cover of ‘Diamond Dogs’ that actually sounds a lot like Marc Bolan and T-Rex.

In 2001, Beck shared his version of ‘Diamond Dogs’ as part of the ‘Moulin Rouge Soundtrack’. He makes it his own, but the initial premise of the song lurks in the shadows.

That same year, former Guns ‘n’ Roses guitarist, Gilby Clarke released his fourth solo album called ‘Swag’. The closing track was ‘Diamond Dogs’ and it features former KISS drummer, Eric Singer.

This album signified a two-decade solo recording hiatus for Gilby Clarke who went on to co-host the popular TV show Rock Star which famously aimed to find a lead singer for their band Supernova, along with drummer Tommy Lee and bassist Jason Newsted. Due to a California band already having the name Supernova, the group was forced through a court injunction to adjust their name. They opted for Rock Star Supernova.

It’s time to move on and enjoy what promises to be a beautiful May day. Right now, it’s a little hazy.

Come out of the garden, baby
You’ll catch your death in the fog”

The ‘Diamond Dogs’ are lurking in this cruel, romantic and feral world.

May there be no sorrow.

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