David Bowie is dead and Blackstar is, ultimately, an album which makes more sense following his death than it did beforehand. Everything becomes much clearer with that knowledge. Each song either discusses or acknowledges the inevitability of such a thing in its own way which makes it all the more ironic that the album is incredibly lively. Bowie worked with a live jazz band in studio for these songs, and their presence is one of the best things about the album. Transcendent saxophone lines appear frequently, the drum beats move along in their own peculiar ways, and the bassist is able to add in runs all over the album to help keep a groove.

The album is fascinating, its various odd ends coming together to create something bizarre and beautiful. The music videos released for it are, for lack of a better word, creepy bordering on terrifying. Bowie mostly appears with gauze wrapped around his eyes and nail through the sockets. It creates a piercing effect that cannot be forgotten; even without pupils, it feels like he’s boring into your soul.

Many of the tracks on the album give the same effect. The title track starts with haunting instrumentation, Bowie’s voice being ever so slightly manipulated to make it sound cold and distant. Bowie said in interviews prior to the album’s release that he was inspired by Kendrick Lamar, and this track easily recalls Lamar’s “How Much a Dollar Cost.” The song later develops a groove, shifting to a funky rhythm before snapping back to its previous position. “Sue (Or in a Season of Crime)” sounds like a spewing of acid, biliously distorted instruments guiding a beat that thrashes against them.

“Lazarus” is, without a doubt, the song people will be talking about most on this album. Along with being the title song in the Broadway musical Bowie wrote, it is perhaps the most blunt about his death. “Look up here, I’m in heaven/I’ve got scars that can’t be seen.” It stands as one of the only tracks on the album where Bowie himself plays guitar, and with knowledge of his death, the song is powerful beyond words.

However, my personal favorite song is “I Can’t Give Everything Away.” The synths that coat the track are soothing, with Bowie’s gentle vibrato adding color and life to the music around it. About halfway through the song he sings “This is all I ever meant, that’s the message that I sent.” The line speaks for itself.

An anecdote to end all of this: Producer Tony Visconti asked Bowie if he was making a farewell album. Bowie just laughed.