In my review of David Bowie Blackstar, I express surprise that the old codger can startle. Keeping his lyrics vague helps. Although Bowie’s eschewing context has led to peril – Tonight, may I talk to for you a moment? – recording an album with a crack band led by an excellent saxophonist is the right kind of novelty. But like I wrote:
This assumes, of course, that one cares about new work from David Bowie, whose ten-year silence was among the shrewdest moves in a shrewd career. He can still test the patience. When he wants to open his mouth and frighten us, he can unleash the vibrato on an unsuspecting pronoun.
If he can still frighten us, then he must have life in him.
Humanizing The Vacuum 