When I was growing up, I’d put on a record and listen to it from beginning to end. I was probably seven years old. My parents had an old record player that looked like a sideboard. Lift the lid on the left and there was the turntable. Lift the lid on the right and there were the records.
I’d usually choose either Tea for the Tillerman by Cat Stevens or Jeff Wayne’s Musical Version of The War of the Worlds. While the music played, I’d read every lyric, every sleeve note and study every photograph.
Then I discovered David Bowie.
I was eight or nine by then, and suddenly the words became more challenging. The meanings felt almost as alien as Bowie himself. I wanted to understand what he was saying, so I’d ask family members, teachers and anyone else who might know what a line meant or why a particular phrase had been used.
For me, understanding the lyrics became part of enjoying the music.
Manual for Success was built around that idea.
What if the words seem to mean almost nothing at first? What if they appear fragmented, contradictory or even nonsensical? Somewhere underneath, there’s still a story waiting to be uncovered, but it asks something of the listener. It asks you to pay attention.
In many ways, this album was an attempt to bring that childhood experience into an adult format. Rather than explaining everything outright, it encourages curiosity. Listen again. Read the words. Talk about them. Compare interpretations. Eventually the pieces begin to fit together.
Or perhaps they don’t.
That’s part of the experience.
Good luck.