The Bewlay brothers ( D. Bowie ) 1971

And so the story goes they wore the clothes
They said the things to make it seem improbable
The whale of a lie like they hope it was
And the goodmen tomorrow
Had their feet in the wallow

And their heads of brawn were nicer shorn
And how they bought their positions with saccharin and trust
And the world was asleep to our latent fuss
Sighing, the swirl through the streets
Like the crust of the sun
The bewlay brothers
In our wings that bark
Flashing teeth of brass
Standing tall in the dark
Oh, and we were gone
Hanging out with your dwarf men
We were so turned on
By your lack of conclusions

I was stone and he was wax
So he could scream, and still relax, unbelievable
And we frightened the small children away
And our talk was old and dust would flow
Thru our veins and lo! it was midnight
Back at the kitchen door
Like the grim face on the cathedral floor
And the solid book we wrote
Cannot be found today
And it was stalking time for the moonboys
The bewlay brothers
With our backs on the arch
In the devil-may-be-here
But he can’t sing about that
Oh, and we were gone
Real cool traders
We were so turned on
You thought we were fakers

Now the dress is hung, the ticket pawned
The factor max that proved the fact
Is melted down
And woven on the edging of my pillow
Now my brother lays upon the rocks
He could be dead, he could be not
He could be you
He’s chameleon, comedian, corinthian and caricature
Shooting-up pie-in-the-sky
The bewlay brothers
In the feeble and the bad
Bewlay brothers
In the blessed and cold
In the crutch-hungry dark
Was where we flayed our mark
Oh, and we were gone
Kings of oblivion
We were so turned on
In the mind-warp pavilion

Lay me place and bake me pie
I’m starving for me gravy
Leave my shoes, and door unlocked
I might just slip away, hey

Just for the day, hey!
Hey, please come away, hey!
Just for the day, hey!
Please come away, hey!
Please come away, hey!
Just for the day
Please come away
Please come away
Please come away
Please come away
Away
(away)
Away
Hey

 
Peu de gens le savent à l'époque, mais cette chanson parle de son frère Terry, gravement malade.
Bowie chante un frère dont le destin est d'errer au loin pour finalement mourir dans des circonstances tragiques.
Les mots coulent comme s'ils s'échappaient d'un journal intime transformé en poême. Bowie est déchiré entre sa loyauté envers son frère et le besoin de s'échapper.
L'ensemble est angoissant et dérangeant et ces paroles sont considérées à l'époque comme obscures mais pas plus étranges que les habituels messages codés de Bowie.
Les infos biographiques découvertes ultérieurement apporteront un éclairage nouveau à " The Bewlay Brothers ".
 Terry mettra fin à ses jours en 1985.

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Always crasing in the same car ( D. Bowie ) 1977

Every chance,
every chance that I take
I take it on the road
Those kilometres and the red lights
I was always looking left and right
Oh, but I'm always crashing
in the same car

Jasmine, I saw you peeping
As I pushed my foot down to the floor
I was going round and round the hotel garage
Must have been touching close to 94
Oh, but I'm always crashing
in the same car

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I' m afraid of americans ( D.Bowie ) 1997

Johnny's in America
No tricks at the wheel

Nobody needs anyone
They don't even just pretend

Johnny's in America

I'm afraid of Americans
I'm afraid of the world
I'm afraid I can't help it
I'm afraid I can't
I'm afraid of Americans
Johnny's in America

Johnny wants a plane
Johnny wants to suck on a Coke
Johnny wants a woman
Johnny wants to think of a joke

Johnny's in America

I'm afraid of Americans

Johnny's in America
Johnny looks up at the stars
Johnny combs his hair
And Johnny wants pussy in cars
Johnny's in America
I'm afraid of Americans

Dummy's an American
Dummy's an American

Yeah, I'm afraid of Americans
I'm afraid of the words
I'm afraid I can't help it
I'm afraid I can't
I'm afraid of Americans

Johnny's an American
Johnny's an American
Johnny's an American

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Blackout ( D.Bowie ) 1978


Oh you, you walk on past
Your lips cut a smile
on your face
Your scalding face
To the cage, to the cage
She was a beauty in a cage

Too, too high a price
To drink rotting wine from your hands
Your fearful hands
Get me to a doctor's I've been told
Someone's back in town
the chips are down
I just cut and blackout
I'm under Japanese influence
And my honour's at stake

The weather's grim, ice on the cages
Me, I'm Robin Hood
and I puff on my cigarette
Panthers are stalking,
screaming, walking

If you don't stay tonight
I will take that plane tonight
I've nothing to lose,
nothing to gain
I'll kiss you in the rain
Kiss you in the rain
Kiss you in the rain
In the rain
Get me to the doctor

Get me off the streets
(get some protection)
Get me on my feet
(get some direction)
Hot air gets me into a blackout
Oh, get me off the streets
Get some protection
Oh get me on my feet (wo-ooh!)

While the streets block off
Getting some skin exposure to the blackout
(get some protection)
Get me on my feet
(get some direction, wo-ooh!)
Oh get me on my feet
Get me off the streets
(get some protection)


Officiellement, cette chanson parle du grand blackout des années 70 qui plongea New York dans le noir.
Officieusement, ce serait l'arrivée brutale et inattendue d'Angie à Berlin qui aurait provoqué le blackout de Bowie ... il serait tombé dans les pommes et aurait été emmené d'urgence à l'hopital militaire britanique ... ou les toubibs auraient diagnostiqué une simple crise de panique ...
Dans la chanson, il chante sur un ton épouvanté " Amenez-moi chez un médecin ! On m'a dit que quelqu' un était de retour en ville, les jeux sont faits ( ... ) Protégez-moi ! "

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Lady Grinning Soul ( D.Bowie ) 1972


She'll come, she'll go. She'll lay belief on you
Skin sweet with musky odour
The lady from another grinning soul

Cologne she'll wear. Silver and Americard
She'll drive a beetle car
And beat you down at cool Canasta

And when the clothes are strewn don't be afraid of the room
Touch the fullness of her breast. Feel the love of her caress
She will be your living end

She'll come, she'll go. She'll lay belief on you
But she won't stake her life on you
How can life become her point of view

And when the clothes are strewn don't be afraid of the room
Touch the fullness of her breast. Feel the love of her caress
She will be your living end

  Cette chanson, ultra méga sensuelle et intime, a été enregistrée aux studios Trident in London.
Ken Scott et Bowie lui même sont au mixage.
Des paroles élégantes, une voix à tomber à la renverse ... et le piano de Mike Garson.

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Fascination  (words by Bowie and Luther Vandross / music by Luther Vandross) 1975

Got to use her
Every time I feel fascination
I just can’t stand still, I’ve got to
use her
Every time I think of what she pulled me through, dear
Fascination moves sweeping near me
Still I take ya


(Fascination) fascination
(sho ‘nuff) fascination
(takes a part of me) takes
a part of me
(Can a heart-beat) can a heart-beat
(live in a fever) live in a fever?
(raging inside of me?)
(Fascination) fascination
(oh, yeah) oh yeah
(takes a part of me) takes a part of me
(I can’t help it) I can’t help it
(I’ve got to use her) got to use her
(every time, ooh)
Fascination comes around


(Fascination) Your soul is calling

Like when I’m walking
Seems that everywhere I turn
I hope you’re waiting for me
I know that people think
That I’m a little crazy
Ohh, better sex is fun
I think I like fascination
Still, tick

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" Sweet Thing "  1974


It's safe in the city, to love in a doorway
To wrangle some screens from the door
And isn't it me, putting pain in a stranger?

Like a portrait in flesh, who trails on a leash
Will you see that I'm scared and I'm lonely?
So I'll break up my room, and yawn and I
Run to the centre of things
Where the knowing one says

Boys, boys, it's a sweet thing
Boys, boys, it's a sweet thing, sweet thing
If you want it, boys, get it here, thing
'Cause hope, boys, is a cheap thing, cheap
thing

I'm glad that you're older than me
Makes me feel important and free
Does that make you smile, isn't that me?
I'm in your way, and I'll steal every moment

If his trade is a curse, then I'll bless you
And turn to the crossroads, and hamburgers, and...



" Candidate " 1974

I'll make you a deal, like any other candidate

We'll pretend we're walking home 'cause your future's at stake
My set is amazing, it even smells like a
street
There's a bar at the end where I can meet you and your friend
Someone scrawled on the wall "I smell the blood of les tricoteuses"
Who wrote up scandals in other bars

I'm having so much fun with the poisonous people
Spreading rumours and lies and stories they made up

Some make you sing and some make you scream
One makes you wish that you'd never been seen
But there's a shop on the corner that's selling papier mache
Making bullet-proof faces, Charlie Manson, Cassius Clay
If you want it, boys, get it here, thing
So you scream out of line
"I want you! I need you! Anyone out there?
Any time?"
Tres butch little number whines "Hey dirty, I want you
When it's good, it's really good, and when it's bad I go to pieces"
If you want it, boys, get it here, thing

Well, on the street where you live I could not hold up my head
For I put all I have in another bed
On another floor, in the back of a car
In the cellar like a church with the door ajar
Well, I guess we've must be looking for a different kind

But we can't stop trying 'til we break up our minds
Til the sun drips blood on the seedy young knights
Who press you on the ground while shaking in fright

I guess we could cruise down one more time

With you by my side, it should be fine

We'll buy some drugs and watch a band

Then jump in the river holding hands



" Sweet Thing (Reprise) " 1974

If you want it, boys, get it here thing
'Cause hope, boys, is a cheap thing, cheap thing

Is it nice in your snow storm, freezing your brain?
Do you think that your face looks the same?
Then let it be, it's all I ever wanted

It's a street with a deal, and a taste
It's got claws, it's got me, it's got you



  Bowie s'est adressé à l'artiste belge Guy Peelaert pour créer la pochette de l'album Diamond Dogs.
L'oeuvre d'art dut être retouchée ... puisque Bowie apparaissait mi-homme, mi-chien ... exhibant au vu de tous ses attributs masculins. Lui qui d'habitude s'habille en fille ... il est cette fois mi-homme, mi-chien mâle ... où est la faute de goût ?
Ziggy termine en quelque sorte sa carrière en mutant à demi canin.

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Merci à David Buckley, une étrange fascination chez Flammarion
     Merci  à Chris Welch, l'intégrale 70 - 80 aux éditions hors collection