David Bowie 2002-10-17 New York City ,Jimmy's Bronx Cafe (Smores DAT Clone) (Remake) - SQ -9

David Bowie 2002-10-17 New York City ,Jimmy’s Bronx Cafe (Smores DAT Clone) (Jan Erik Remake) – SQ -9

01 Sunday.flac
02 Cactus.flac
03 Breaking Glass.flac
04 Fame.flac
05 Ashes To Ashes.flac
06 Slip Away.flac
07 China Girl.flac
08 5-15 The Angels Have Gone.flac
09 Starman.flac
10 Absolute Beginners.flac
11 I’ve Been Waiting For You.flac
12 Afraid.flac
13 Fashion.flac
14 Be My Wife.flac
15 Sound And Vision.flac
16 Rebel Rebel.flac
17 I’m Afraid Of Americans.flac
18 Life On Mars.flac
19 Heroes.flac
20 Heathen (The Rays).flac
21 White Light White Heat.flac
22 Let’s Dance.flac
23 Ziggy Stardust.flac

Label: No label
Audio Source: audience > LINEAGE AUDIENCE DAT MASTER(48KHZ)>DAT CLONE>SONY PCM R-300 DAT
Total running time: 1:28:59
Note: Good quality audience recording – I’d give it SQ 8,5
Attendance: . . . . . . .
Remake > by Jan Erik

This show is another from the collection of “Smores” who is working to get many of his old tapes transferred.
Some of these shows are seeing the light of day after all of these years- some for the first time since they were taped! He is currently searching for any Warrior Soul, Saigon Kick, Tegan and Sara, or Antigone Rising shows.

THE BAND
David Bowie vocals guitar saxophone harmonica
Earl Slick guitar
Gerry Leonard guitar
Mark Plati rhythm guitar bass keyboards
Gail Ann Dorsey bass backing vocals
Sterling Campbell drums
Mike Garson keyboards
Catherine Russell keyboards percussion backing vocals

ROCK REVIEW; Old and New Bowie In Every Borough
By JON PARELES
Published: October 14, 2002

For most of a career that’s now in its fourth decade, David Bowie sought to outpace pop, fashion and his own past. He kept sloughing off styles and personas and revamping his music; more than once he declared he would no longer play his older songs. Lately, however, he has been looking back on his achievements and finding them more satisfactory, and with his current album, “Heathen” (ISO/Columbia), and on tour this year, he has allowed himself to revisit his strongest music, in which funk and noise battle melodrama.

He was all smiles when he performed on Friday night at the Snug Harbor Music Hall on Staten Island. After spending the summer playing outdoors as a headliner on Moby’s Area 2 tour, he was starting what he called the N.Y.C. Bowie-Thon: a theater-size show in each borough in the same order as the New York Marathon. (He played in Brooklyn on Saturday and continues to the Colden Center in Flushing, Queens, on Wednesday; Jimmy’s Bronx Cafe, Thursday; and at the Beacon Theater in Manhattan, Sunday).

The trappings were basic: just Mr. Bowie’s last name in lights, sometimes flashing to the beat. But as the set moved through Mr. Bowie’s lasting obsessions — space travel, apocalypse, stardom, androgyny, love and loss — it reached peak after peak.

Mr. Bowie let the audience measure songs from ”Heathen” against their predecessors from his magnificent late-1970’s albums “Low” and “Heroes” and they stood up well. “Sunday” and “Heathen” enveloped images of desolation in eerie, hovering guitar tones; “5:15 the Angels Have Gone” shifted between a mundane chronicle and a confession of desperate love. Mr. Bowie also resurrected rockers from the 1990’s — “I’m Afraid of Americans” and “Hallo Spacebay” — that remained jagged and tough.

His band layers together his disparate tastes and pasts. Mike Garson on keyboards let Mr. Bowie show his Anthony Newley-Jacques Brel cabaret side, singing ballads that worked up to bleating high notes; he could also splash on jazz chords and clusters. Earl Slick played wailing hard-rock guitar solos, while Gerry Leonard’s guitar supplied keening textures. Gail Ann Dorsey’s bass and Sterling Campbell’s drums could mesh for earthy funk or stately marches.

Mr. Bowie no longer presents himself as the unearthly Ziggy Stardust or the unapproachable Thin White Duke; between songs, he joked about being jet-lagged. But at any moment, he could slip into artifice: making a Marlon Brando face when he mentioned the actor in “China Girl” shivering like a junkie in “Fame” or fixing his gaze on Ms. Dorsey as he sang the obsessive “I Would Be Your Slave”. When he ended the set with “Ziggy Stardust” he didn’t have to be in makeup and costume to claim a character who, after all, he never really left behind.

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