Fuck You, I Like Tin Machine

Posted in Music, Retrovirus |

The band took a short break to allow Bowie to complete his Sound + Vision greatest hits tour before returning to the studio in 1991 to record Tin Machine II. I consider this to be a far better album than the debut, most likely for the very reasons that everyone else dislikes it. It’s more sophisticated, more polished, but without being a return to Bowie’s previous sound. The rest of the band are still present, still making their voices heard, but with perhaps more cohesion. As a whole, it’s not as frenetic as Tin Machine, which is lamentable, but at times it does approach the previous level of energy.

“Big Hurt” is one such time, with Hunt providing a percussive assault behind Gabrels’ wall of noise while Bowie sounds like a desperate mental patient. Which I mean in the best possible way, and “even a glass eye in a duck’s ass can see that” as he says. On the slower side, “Betty Wrong” is by far my favorite track, although there are many that I hold in high esteem, including the singles, “Baby Universal” and “One Shot.”

The songs are catchier, I’d say, without losing the individuality of the players. The lyrics are slightly more crafted without being overly contrived. And wonder of wonders, Bowie lets another vocalist sing on not one, but two songs out of eleven. Drummer Hunt Sales get to step up on two tracks that I love, “Stateside” and “Sorry,” the former a grinding shuffle and the latter a keening ballad. He doesn’t have the most commercial voice ever, but like his drumming, Hunt knows how far he can push it out of line and still bring it back in time.

I saw the band live for their It’s My Life tour supporting the second album, and it was fantastic. I was impressed that Bowie performed no Bowie solo tunes whatsoever, being faithful to the band he was in. They did do covers, though, including The Pixies’ “Debaser” and “Go Now” by The Moody Blues. You could tell that Bowie was enjoying himself, allowing other personalities to share the spotlight with him. A live album was released in 1992 with the tongue-in-cheek title Oy Vey, Baby, a response to U2′s Achtung Baby.

But nothing lasts forever, and as the rock star tired of being an ordinary band member, the band itself ceased to be. Bowie continued to collaborate with Gabrels for several solo albums and tours, but there was no more to be heard from the little band that could. I still consider the Tin Machine Years to be important ones in Bowie’s career, and arguably they were responsible for the rocker’s return to the concept of rock, of spontaneity, of saying, “fuck you” to what’s expected. Yeah, I’m proud. And I hope that Tin Machine is as well.

1. David Buckley, Strange Fascination – David Bowie: The Definitive Story, (1999).

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