The Bowie of many voices was at play on this 1995 rediscovery of core musical values. He dusted off some of his best ideas—Berlin-era electronic music (with Brian Eno), scathing guitar, limber jazz piano—and created a song suite with a loose narrative that allowed him to switch suddenly from urbane crooner with a London twang (“The Motel,” “Outside”) to muttering alien lizard (“The Hearts Filthy Lesson”) at the drop of an arched eyebrow. “Hallo Spaceboy” is a particular peak, a theatrical, grinding push through industrial beats that announced the old, weird Bowie was back in business.

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