The power of contrasts: David Bowie, Robert Fripp, and the darkness at the centre of ‘Beauty and the Beast’
The middle child to David Bowie‘s Berlin trilogy signalled something more upbeat, providing the perfect exercise in the power of contrasts and how beautiful music can sound when it combines contradictory elements. Heroes began with ‘Beauty and the Beast’, a seemingly odd choice for a single considering its predecessor, the album’s title track. Still, the song is worthy of as much appreciation for its experimental approach and seamless blend of Disney-esque archetypes.
In the song, Bowie insists that you can’t “say no to the beauty and the beast”. Going with the idea that this piece is an allegory for Bowie’s previous relationship with cocaine, this lyric reflects his internal dichotomy, representing light and dark through the accompanying contrasting instruments. This is evident right from the opening notes, which intentionally evoke a sense of unease, much like the highs and lows of addiction itself.
Despite the fairytale-like association within the title, ‘Beauty and the Beast’ is pretty sinister, its bouncy rhythm taking you through the motions of drug-induced stimulation like something that’s completely unavoidable. It seems that this was a deliberate choice from the outset: when piecing together the song, Bowie and Brian Eno called up Robert Fripp and asked: “Do you think you could come along and play some hairy rock ‘n’ roll guitar?”
After arriving at the studio, things seemed to have unfolded organically. They put on the tape, and, according to Fripp, “what you hear on record is what I played after hearing it for the first time without anything being said”. Following their instincts resulted in somewhat distorted and disoriented sounds, which plays perfectly into the complicated push-and-pull feeling that comes with drug addiction.
Although it’s tempting to try and apply a simplified lens when picking apart ‘Beauty and the Beast’, its various elements show that it was anything but. Bowie also plays with various misleading lyrics, like “someone fetch a priest”, which is said to be a reference to Tony Visconti’s repeated phrase “someone fuck a priest” during the recording of ‘Heroes’. Similarly, “Nothing will corrupt us / Nothing will compete” could be viewed as Bowie’s defeatism. Still, he could also be looking back with appreciation, knowing that he is no longer at the peak of his battle with addiction.
Unlike ‘Heroes’, ‘Beauty and the Beast’ alluded to Bowie’s more experimental inclination and the power of instinct. Moreover, although the singer had already crafted the song’s foundation with Eno prior to Fripp’s arrival, the guitarist’s contributions added to its complexities, reflecting the unsteady nature of cocaine and vulnerability. Drawing on the Disney story also articulates an almost lurid image – we’re so used to the story’s innocence, but Bowie suddenly forces us to confront something much darker.
The sheer excellence within ‘Beauty and the Beast’ cannot be understated. Bowie had entertained contrasting entities both within his music and personas long before Heroes. Still, this track, in particular, showcased a different side to his artistry that almost mocked its subject matter. Of course, it would be ignorant not to consider the city of Berlin as a major influencing factor, but what’s most enduring about this track is its mystery. We can speculate about Bowie’s psyche when crafting the lyrics, but we’ll never truly know what informed such a drastic arrangement.
