DB’s warmest LP. From the glam slam of “Queen Bitch” to the cold fire of “The Bewlay Brothers,” he’s a different kind of kook on each song. It’s all very student of course (he was always a bit of a purploid), but the lilt is there. You get a sense of the new actor on the town, beating other people’s moves — a cute renaissance man who, for all the crafty imaging, turns benevolent hero worship into first-rate songs. The mold of the shape-changing Bowie starts here.
Rating: A
