David Bowie 'Likes the Struggle' of Winning Fans

Onetime Springsteen sideman reveals more about secret 'The Next Day' sessions

February 1, 2013 8:00 AM ET
Zachary Alford, David Bowie
Zachary Alford and David Bowie
Frank Ockenfels

For the past year and a half drummer Zachary Alford has been forced to walk around with the secret that he plays on David Bowie's new album. "It's been torture," he says. "Everyone always says to me, 'So, what's David up to?' I just had to shrug my shoulders and say, 'I wish I knew.'" 

Now that the secret is out, Zachary is finally able to talk to us about the secretive recording sessions for The Next Day. We also spoke with him about his tenure in Bruce Springsteen's "Other Band" in 1992-'93. 

Let's start at the very beginning. Tell me how you first heard about this new Bowie album?
David sent me an email asking if I was available in the first two weeks of May of 2011. It was out of the blue. I mean, we'd been in email contact, but there was never any talk about work. 

What was your first reaction?
I said yes. [Laughs] Luckily I was available, so I was just really happy about that. But I didn't know what it was. But whatever it was, I'm available. [Laughs]

Flashback: Bowie Belts Out 'Heroes'

He asked if you were available, but he didn't tell you it was for a new album?
There was a time where I didn't know what it was. He wouldn't even say where it was or what it was. I remember [bassist] Gail [Ann Dorsey] and I talking about it, like, "Oh, did he contact you too?" "Yeah, he contacted me." "What's it for?" "I don't know." 

We didn't know if it was a performance or a recording or anything. It wasn't until maybe a week before that he said, "Yes, be here at this studio on this day." Then somehow it leaked out.

What do you mean?
Well, I got an email from David saying, "Do you know a photographer named so and so?" I could find the name, but I don't remember offhand. I said, "No." It's a good thing I didn't know him. [Laughs] Apparently this photographer had called someone from David's office and asked if it was OK for him to take pictures of David at the studio. They were like, "What? Who told you there was even a session?" Obviously, someone from the studio leaked it out. We got an email after that saying, "OK, change of plan. We're doing it at Magic Shop." 

By this point, are you shocked to learn that he's making a new album?
Um . . . I'd say I was relieved that he's finally back in the saddle, and I was relieved that I got the call.

Tell me about the first day of recording. Did he lay out his vision for the album, or did you just start cutting tracks?
It was all very matter-of-fact. We weren't allowed to hear any of the songs before that, because he didn't want anything out there circulating. So we basically walked in, and there wasn't much discussion. It's like, "Here's the first tune." Usually he'd play us a demo. It would be a home demo with a drum machine and a synth. Then he'd play a rehearsal demo, because they had actually rehearsed some of the material up from the initial demo stage in November. I guess that was in 2010. And so we listened to both, and then we'd go in the room and start playing it.

Is this you, Gail, Gerry Leonard and David?
Yes, and David Torn. The first week in May we actually had both guitar players, David Torn and Gerry Leonard. Gail was on bass and David was on either synths or he'd play acoustic guitar or piano, depending on the song.

Gerry would hand out charts while we listened to the song so we'd have something to follow, and we could make any notes we needed. We listened to the songs about two or three times, and then it was time to go play it. That was the drill.

I assume David told you that you couldn't tell a soul about the sessions.
Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. He handed out nondisclosure forms for everyone to sign.

Did you even tell your family?
Yes. I told my wife and my kids. But we home-school, so I didn't have to worry about them blabbing it all over school.

It's pretty amazing in this day and age that it didn't get out there.
Yeah. I think it's a real testament to the value of privacy. This is zero promotion. Basically, him saying nothing is almost promoting the record itself.

Being quiet a whole decade and doing no interviews makes him this real mysterious character. It's almost like he's this ghost, and I can understand why he's reluctant to give that up.
In this day and age, people are so distracted that it's hard to show them anything they'll pay attention to. By actually giving them nothing, they want to know more.

I've only heard the single, but everyone keeps telling me the rest of the album sounds much different than that song.
Oh yeah. There's definitely a lot of up-tempo material. That's some kind of Sixties doo-wop-ish material. Although I don't remember a lot of the songs. I mean, it'll be two years in May since we did it. I haven't heard any of it since. I hope to have the chance to hear it soon myself.

So you basically only spent three total weeks working on the album?

Can you walk me through your average day of recording? What was the routine?
Well, the routine was very much like going to work. It was a lot of fun for me, because I don't live in the city anymore, but I grew up there. This was a nice way to come back. Every morning I'd stroll through Soho to go to the Magic Shop. I'd show up around 10:30 a.m. David was almost always already there. He'd be in the control room strumming away on something. Then he'd come back when we were all gathered and drinking our coffees. He'd then throw on a demo. Gerry would hand out charts, we'd take notes, and after hearing it two or three times he'd say, "Everybody ready?" We'd say "Yeah," and we'd go in and play it through. We'd only do two or three takes and he'd say, "Either we've got it or we don't."

On one occasion I recall we came back in and he still wasn't happy, so he wanted us to move on. He'd rather keep the momentum going and keep the juices flowing than sit there and hammer out a tune until it's perfect. 

So we'd do the first one, then we would break for lunch. Then the same drill. We'd listen to another one, takes notes, go in . . . Usually we'd finish by five or six.

Roughly how many takes do you think you did of most of the songs?
I would say between two and five takes for all the songs. 

Is that sort of low in your experience?
That is low, actually. It may not sound like it, but you can do a lot of takes in no time. Because they're all rehearsals. I can't tell you how many sessions I go to and I say, "Oh, wow, let's listen to the third take. That was the best one." And someone will say, "That was actually the sixth take." You forget how many times you've done something. So this was pretty low. On a couple of occasions it was only one take.

You said some of the songs were sort of doo-wop. Earl Slick told me some were Rolling Stones-esque. Can you describe the sound of the songs a little more?
There are a couple that remind me of the Scary Monsters period, because they're a bit more angular and aggressive-sounding, so I would approach them that way, because naturally I'm trying to tie the material into my association of what Bowie music sounds like.

There's another number that's a straight-up country song. There was another one that was based on a blues riff, but we had specific instructions to not make it sound like the blues. There were two songs that sort of had a Bo Diddley feel. I remember specifically shying away from that because I didn't want it to sound like "Panic in Detroit."

Do you know any of the songs titles?
They've changed. The only ones that have remained from my initial days are "The Stars (Are Out Tonight) and . . . is there one called "Ya Ya?" 

I don't think so.
I remember "Boss of Me." We cut that with Tony Levin on bass. I remember specifically thinking, "Oh, this one sounds kind of funky. Wouldn't it be great if he played the [Chapman] Stick?" I suggested that, and Tony wasn't thrilled with that, because there were a lot of chord changes. He doesn't like to do songs with chord changes on the Stick, but everybody thought it sounded great. That sounded almost Peter Gabriel-like, like something from the "Big Time" era.

To read the new issue of Rolling Stone online, plus the entire RS archive: Click Here

Music Main Next

blog comments powered by Disqus
Around the Web
Powered By ZergNet
Daily Newsletter

Get the latest RS news in your inbox.

Sign up to receive the Rolling Stone newsletter and special offers from RS and its
marketing partners.


We may use your e-mail address to send you the newsletter and offers that may interest you, on behalf of Rolling Stone and its partners. For more information please read our Privacy Policy.

Song Stories

“You Oughta Know”

Alanis Morissette | 1995

This blunt, bitter breakup song -- famous for its line "Would she go down on you in a theater?" -- was long rumored to be about Alanis Morissette getting dumped by Full House actor Dave Coulier. But while she never confirmed it was about him (Coulier himself says it is, however), she insisted the song wasn't all about scorn. "By no means is this record just a sexual, angry record," she told Rolling Stone. "The song wasn't written for the sake of revenge. It was written for the sake of release. I'm actually a pretty rational, calm person."

More Song Stories entries »