David Bowie: A lyrical Oddity

Ron Counte

It’s not uncommon for people to be puzzled by lyrics of well-known songs. There are still those who believe Hendrix sang ‘Scuse me while I kiss this guy’ on Purple Haze. Bob Dylan thought the Beatles were singing ‘I get high, I get high’ on I Wanna Hold Your Hand. But these misunderstandings are due to particular phrases being misheard. There is one famous song where the confusion is not about what is being said, but who is saying it.

I am referring to David Bowie’s 1969 masterpiece Space Oddity. The original is notable for featuring a Stylophone solo and it’s a mark of the late songwriter’s genius that he managed to use a toy instrument which sounded like a couple of bees trapped in a baked bean tin to such great effect. It also meant that Rolf Harris was not the only celebrity associated with the device, a fact that must have come as great comfort to the manufacturers.

The song, rush-released as a single to capitalise on the Apollo 11 moon landing, takes the form of a dialogue between an astronaut and his ground control crew though Bowie sings both parts and so there is scope for uncertainty. At first the song makes it abundantly clear who is speaking. It starts with the phrase ‘Ground Control to Major Tom’ and each subsequent contribution is similarly prefaced. All well and good. But the system breaks down later in the song. At one point ground control are repeating the line ‘Can you hear me Major Tom?’ but on the third repetition Major Tom takes over mid-way through the phase to sing ‘Here am I sitting in a tin can…’ This is a beautiful pivot on the word here but it does indicate that a change of voice will not always necessarily be flagged for us.

However, it’s usually obvious who is speaking until we reach ‘Tell my wife I love her very much. She knows.’ Now it seemed clear to me that Major Tom is asking ground control to let his wife know that he loves her, and that ground control respond to the request. They appear to have no interest in speaking with his wife, reflecting a cold and cynical disregard for his wishes. This view is supported by the way in which the lyric is sung. Major Tom’s request is enunciated in a soft voice, while the response is almost shouted.

I was happily mansplaining this point to my wife as we were entering the garden centre recently when she shocked me by saying that my interpretation was wrong and that it’s Major Tom who sings ‘She Knows’.

I scoffed as this. It made no sense at all. We have a straightforward request and response here; it’s clearly a dialogue. But she was undeterred. I am a musician and have played this song a few times – I even have a VST virtual Stylophone in my set- up! On consulting my copy of the music for the piece I saw that ground control’s phrases towards the end of the song appear in quotation, while Major Tom’s do not. Sure enough the phrase ‘She Knows’ was in quotation marks. The ‘Tell my wife’ lyric was not. So there it was. Incontrovertible proof. The prosecution rests. Or so I thought.

But no. There is a music video of the song on the web, a slightly different version from the original but revealing nevertheless. It’s a very low-budget affair and in it Bowie sings all of the ground control lyrics wearing a white T-shirt with ‘G C’ in large red lettering. He delivers Major Tom’s contributions wearing a spacesuit that looks like it is made of tin foil by Blue Peter viewers. I waited with bated breath for the critical line. And then it happened. ‘She Knows’ emanated from the spacesuit-clad Bowie. It’s Major Tom singing it.

At first this made no sense at all to me. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that there could possibly be a darker meaning to the line. What if Major Tom, at this point depressed and disillusioned and contemplating suicide, is telling ground control that his wife knows what he is going to do and why? Now that begins to makes more sense and in a way is quite brilliant.

OK, so it’s not a conventional grammatical construction but Bowie was not a conventional artist. Rick Wakeman, who played on Life On Mars? and other Bowie tracks, was always amazed at how he would suddenly throw in an entirely unexpected chord in the middle of a composition. But they always worked wonderfully. This would be another example of his unusual approach to words and music.

I have been listening to that otherworldly song, its title influenced by the 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey, for over 50 years without ever understanding it properly. But I appreciate it even more now. It only remains for me to say this…

Tell my wife I was very wrong. She knows.

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Ron Counte worked in the music industry with US amp and guitar manufacturer Line 6. He is an amateur musician and has played keyboards in various bands. He is currently trying to free up space in his home by reducing his Hammond organ collection from four down to three.

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