Moonage Daydream

The opening two tracks of the Ziggy album tow the line that Bowie drew in his previous album, portraying contemporary human existence as a desolate spiritual wasteland, leading towards decline. 'Moonage Daydream' explodes into the scene to provide the solution, to revitalize the human spirit and bring happiness. So what is the magical key to happiness, which could succeed where all religions and ideologies failed? Bowie's answer is: rock'n'roll.

It is hard for us to remember nowadays, when rock'n'roll is just another musical genre, what it once meant. But for many kids in the fifties and sixties, rock'n'roll was the essence of existence. "Till there was Rock, you only had God", sings Bowie in the Ziggy outtake 'Sweet Head', and at other times he referred to rock'n'roll (in its early years) as the substitute for the church. When you listen to early rock'n'roll stuff from the mid-fifties, you can hear it: the feeling of pure release and euphoria that emanates from the records, the sheer ecstasy that is every bit as powerful as religious ecstasy. It sounds like the singer's soul has been trapped in a little bottle all his life, and now breaks loose and fills the entire world with joy, lifting its listeners right up with it. But the rock'n'roll kids have also learned something else: this joy doesn't last forever. The wonderful sensations contained in mid-fifties rock'n'roll records died towards the end of the decade, and even those who originated them - like Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis Presley – could no longer reproduce them. The Beatles distilled this eruptive quality and brought it back in the early sixties, but the question now became: how can we maintain it? What is the secret ingredient that produces this quality, this ecstasy? That is one of the main questions that the youth culture of the sixties grappled with.

The Hippies claimed to have the answer. The ecstatic experience of early rock'n'roll, they contended, was only a taste of the true joy, the joy attained through the psychedelic experience, wherein you feel at one with the universe and with your fellow humans. The breakaway sensation of rock'n'roll, they claimed, was only the preliminary step to get us out of our old state of mind, and once that was achieved, a new state of mind must prevail, one that is based on the insights achieved through psychedelia. The music changed and became rock, which regarded itself as "serious" music, distinguishing itself from rock'n'roll, which was now seen as meaningless teenage fodder. Instead of the wild, eruptive, three-minute outbursts of early rock'n'roll, rock now provided long, contemplative pieces, that aspired to "musical quality". It was no longer about freaking out, but about listening carefully, as the musicians tried to uncover the secrets of life. In one of rock's most celebrated pieces, Led Zeppelin's 'Stairway to Heaven' from 1971, we are taken on a quest to find the perfect tune, the tune that can take us to Heaven. It is a long, long quest, but in the end we are promised that we will get what we want, as "The tune will come to you at last / When all are one and one is all / To be a rock and not a roll". That was the gist of the rock worldview: the short-lived sensations of rock'n'roll are meaningless; what we are looking for is something solid, a rock and not a roll, something that will get us to a Heaven of pure unity and harmony, and will keep us there forever. And that is what rock promised to provide.

It didn't feel that way, though. Actually, by the early seventies, it felt like all the fun was drained out of rock music. Led Zeppelin, in the same album, tell us that "it's been a long time since I've rock'n'rolled", yearning to get back to those wondrous early sensations, and many other records of the time express the same nostalgia. Something was lost in the switch from rock'n'roll to rock, something essential.

That must have been how Bowie felt, too. The first version of 'Moonage Daydream' was released in 1971, as part of the Arnold Corns project, and its lyrics presume to resurrect that ecstatic, quasi-religious rock'n'roll experience. Why was that experience lost? Bowie's reply may be hinted at in the name of the band, if the story that it takes its name from Pink Floyd's 'Arnold Layne' is to be believed. 'Arnold Layne' was written by Syd Barrett, who was basically the last paragon of the flamboyant, androgynous, boisterous and provocative figure that was the main rock'n'roll archetype ever since the first days of Little Richard. After Barrett fell victim to drug abuse, rock no longer produced such characters, stayed away from the pop game of posturing, and shifted the focus from the persona towards the music. This was the thing that Bowie rebelled against. In 1970, he presented the band Hype, which tried to bring pop art and fabrication back into the world of rock. In 1971, Arnold Corns tried to bring back that flamboyant, androgynous and provocative rock'n'roll star figure that disappeared from the scene along with Syd Barrett. But their version of 'Moonage Daydream' fails to induce the ecstasy of rock'n'roll, and did not register on the charts. Only in 1972, with his third fabricated band, does Bowie finally discover the missing ingredient needed to produce a real rock'n'roll sensation, and get 'Moonage Daydream' right.

'Moonage Daydream', in the Ziggy cut, bursts into the end of 'Soul Love', bringing back the eruptive power of rock'n'roll. And then come the four lines that try to break down the rock'n'roll phenomenon to its parts, and decipher its secret:

I'm an alligator

"It sounds like the singer's soul has been trapped in a little bottle all his life, and now breaks loose and fills the entire world with joy, lifting its listeners right up with it", I wrote above about the rock'n'roll experience. What it also brings on is a feeling of omnipotence, and in the late sixties, this was exhibited by rock singers in the form of proclaiming themselves to be some mythical, larger than life figure, which suddenly burst out of their former selves: I'm Jumpin' Jack Flash, I'm a Voodoo Chile, I'm the Lizard King. "I'm an Alligator" continues this line, detonating its way through the pathetic, depressed figure of the first two tracks, shedding it like dried skin to reappear in a shiny new guise. The actual image he chose, the alligator, is immaterial, and was probably chosen for the purpose of rhyming. What is important here is that he is an "allegator", someone who alleges to be something new.

I'm a mama-papa coming for you

And this new identity, it turns out, is not particular to just one individual. Whenever rock'n'roll broke, whenever some rock'n'roll star assumed a new identity and broadcasted it to the world, there were kids who identified with him, and felt that he was expressing what they felt inside. Through imitating him, they could liberate themselves from their false identity, and replace it with an identity that felt real. Rock'n'roll is like being reborn, and the rock'n'roll star is the person performing this rebirth. The announcement "I'm a mama-papa coming for you" poses our rock'n'roll hero as a replacement for your parents, calling on any alienated kid to be reborn through identifying with him.

But does any form of rebirth induce a feeling of freedom and happiness? Can you simply choose an arbitrary new identity, and the rock'n'roll ecstatic sensation will immediately appear? Certainly not. There must be some principle behind the new self you are creating, which will ensure that it does indeed generate rock'n'roll. What is that principle?

I'm the space invader

The third line provides the answer. Rock'n'roll is the space invader, the alien from another world. Or, at least, something that seems like an alien. The artists who ignited the rock'n'roll experience were always those who combined elements of their own culture's music with sounds that came from a musical logic that was alien to it, and thus were able to express a sensibility that their own musical language was previously unable to express. When white boys like Elvis Presley and Bill Haley inserted elements of black R&B into white pop and country, they did something that went completely against the logic of their culture, because for white America in the fifties, the black man symbolized the jungle, the thing that civilized persons should aspire to distance themselves from. So for most white folks it seemed like a step backwards for civilization, the beginning of its downfall. So Elvis, a white boy singing R&B, was something completely paradoxical and alien to the logic of the time, but for some kids who were alienated to that logic, and felt that R&B held some truths it failed to encompass, he was the first thing they could identify with. Similarly, when the Beatles combined English pop with American rock'n'roll, they blew away all preconceptions of how Englishmen should behave, and the same thing happened when the Rolling Stones conflated Chicago blues and Mersey beat, or when Bob Dylan fused folk music with rock'n'roll - they all seemed at first like something that came from another world, something that was unheard of before. The rock'n'roll experience, then, happens when something that was previously banned from your culture finds a way to invade your cultural space, to present itself in a language that is understandable to you, and speak to something inside you that was always repressed. When you identify with it, you feel like your inside erupts and takes over, smashing your old identity.

This also explains why the rock'n'roll sensation can be felt by many kids at once. It is not some individual "real self" that was locked inside. It is a shared sensibility, which is the result of cultural repression. Every society defines "human being" in a certain way, a way that leaves out some traits that a few of its members have. These members feel oppressed, and when someone comes and presents an identity that belongs to that society and yet includes one of these repressed traits, all those who felt oppressed can assume that identity, and find freedom through it. Thus, they all feel the same liberation.

I'll be a rock'n'rollin' bitch for you

So what does rock'n'roll do? First of all it rocks you, constituting an alien invasion that attacks the foundations of your logic; but if you open up and succumb to it, it rolls you – you go through a transformation, and become someone else. When rock'n'roll became rock, music that only built on its own foundations, it lost that ability to come over as an alien, and thus the ability to roll. And with that, it lost the ecstatic, joyous sensation that accompanies the breakout of rock'n'roll. "I'll be a rock'n'rollin' bitch for you" announces that Bowie intends to bring that transformative power back, to rock'n'roll us once again.

Within the framework of the album, 'Moonage Daydream' is of course the moment when Ziggy arrives, to take us out of the slump presented in the first two tracks. In concerts, Bowie would sometimes present it as "a song written by Ziggy". Ziggy, we see, is not necessarily an alien. He is rather someone who presents himself as an alien figure, larger then life, which the kids can identify with, and be rock'n'rolled and reborn in the process.

And the terms "bitch" and "mama-papa" also point to one of the traits that make Ziggy an alien: his androgyny. In the logic of the society he grew into, you were either a male or a female, and you could only be attracted to the opposite sex. This logic repressed all those who felt that their sexuality was not that clear cut, that they had characteristics that were attributed to the opposite sex, or that they were rather attracted to members of their own gender. Ziggy would break that oppression, presenting an identity that is sexually fluid, and provide all those people with something they can identify with. In 'Queen Bitch', the hero was afraid to give in and become part of that alternative sexual world. Through Ziggy, Bowie himself becomes the Queen (Rock'n'rollin') Bitch, who draws the kids in.

Keep your mouth shut,
You're squawking like a pink monkey bird
And I'm busting up my brains for the words

In the first four lines, Bowie is trying to find words to express the essence of rock'n'roll. But like he already told us in 'Memory of a Free Festival', capturing the essence of ecstasy in words is an impossible thing to do, and these following lines seem to convey his frustration during the process. The "pink monkey bird" is an imaginary creature that signifies something really loud and bothersome, and here it probably means the entire outside world. When you are trying to find words to express your innermost feelings, everything else becomes a distraction, and seems like a pink monkey bird to you. Bowie is trying to shut out the outside world, so he can reflect on these feelings.

Don't fake it baby, lay the real thing on me
The church of man love
Is such a holy place to be
Make me baby, make me know you really care
Make me jump into the air

The second line always appears in lyric sheets as "the church of man, love", but I think it is actually "the church of man-love". The church of God-love promised us that through God we will find love, but as we saw in 'Soul Love', it failed. And so, Ziggy posits the church of Man-love in its stead, claiming that we have the ability to generate love by ourselves, with no need for the mediation of God. When we are transformed through rock'n'roll, when our inside becomes outside, our masks fall, and we fuse together. All those who assume the identity of the alien now become as one, and feel the joy of love for one another.

We are reminded once again of 'Memory of a Free Festival'. There, Bowie assumed the role of a Hippie who tries to convince us that his way of life brings ultimate love, which draws in even aliens from outer space, who come to bask in it. But the truth seeps in through his words, and we realize that this "love" is a feigned one. Here, Bowie finds the way to true love, by simply reversing the order: first of all the alien comes, liberating us from our alienated identities, and as a result, we can lay the real thing on each other, and dwell in the church of man love.

Keep your 'lectric eye on me babe
Put your ray gun to my head
Press your space face close to mine, love
Freak out in a moonage daydream oh yeah!

The chorus emphasizes the futuristic nature of the whole affair. To reach freedom, happiness and love, you have to recreate yourself as something completely new, something alien to everything that came before. But the title also hints that this perfect state is only temporary. Yet again we are reminded of 'Memory of a Free Festival', where we didn't reach the Sun, the symbol of truth, but settled for a Sun Machine, a technological replacement. The fact that this is a "moonage daydream" hints that we do not reach daylight, but remain in the dark moon-age, but we do create a temporary replacement of daylight, a daydream.

The secret of rock'n'roll has been deciphered. Bowie is going to transform himself into something that appears otherworldly, and offer something new to the world. Once this realization has been made, it can be codified into bolts of electric current and sent into space, where it is transformed into waves of glistening supersonic sound, and then zapped back towards Earth, to hit the unsuspecting antennas of millions of aimless kids, who have no idea what is about to descend upon them.