Revisiting the Zeroes

I recently came across the word, “zeroes,” used as an insult.  A “zero” as an inconsequential person.  The way my mind works, I immediately thought of the Bowie song of the same name, pulled up the 2018 rework of it and listened.  “Zeroes” is not one of Bowie’s better known songs.  It sits in the middle of, “Never Let Me Down,” which is one of his less well-regarded albums.  My biggest problem with the original version of the album is not that the songs are bad on an individual basis, but that most of the songs are middling, and the combined effect is to bring the whole of the album down.  But the 2018 rework, in which new instrumentals replaced those recorded in 1987 raises up the whole work.  And “Zeroes” shines.

I originally wrote about the song on Day 208.  You can go back to that day, and I (somewhat recently) linked the video of the 2018 version to that post (so here I’ll use the inferior original).  Despite the obscurity of the song, much has actually been written about it.  There’s hidden meaning in almost every line, and there’s more meaning in its musicality.  The purpose of this post is not to iterate all that, but in brief, Bowie was trying to evoke the 1960s while at the same time lamenting the dissatisfying place he found himself creatively at the moment.

The word, “Zeroes,” here is the name of a band.  But, as with the best of Bowie, that can’t be the whole story.  He had to be conscious that it sounded like, “Heroes,” and he had to know that the word had a negative connotation.  The great “Heroes” was ten years old when “Zeroes” was released.  Bowie performed the older song during the Glass Spider Tour, which was to promote “Never Let Me Down.” In a way, he’s saying that he had gone, creatively, from hero to zero.  He was slightly more explicit in making this point when he sang, “And me, my little red Corvette has driven by…” obviously suggesting that Prince had, by 1987, occupied a space he once held.

But while Bowie was feeling bad about what he had become, he created this little song which is a minor triumph.  More than the “little red Corvette” line, the line that sticks with me is on that on its face is quite simple, but I’m convinced there’s more to it: “You are my moon, you are my sun, heaven knows what you are, tonight the Zeroes are singing for you…”

“You are my moon, you are my sun,” is the kind of cliche profession of love that could show up in any song, or would be declared by an uncreative lover searching for words.  But “heaven knows what you are” is almost a take-back.  The object of the singer’s affection is a mystery.  He’s left without adequate words.  And since he himself is singing, he is being self-referential, still speaking in the second person, when he follows with, “tonight the “Zeroes are singing for you.”  In other words, I am not worthy.  We have love, we have mystery, we have self doubt all wrapped up in a few little lines.

Anyway, its not Bowie’s best, but its a nice song.  Six years after Bowie’s death, I’m still writing about him because he created so many songs like that.  There’s still more to say…