David Bowie and America have had an uncomfortable relationship over the years. Not so long ago, on 1997's failed techno/jungle experiment Earthling, he wrote a song called "I'm Afraid of Americans," which succinctly expressed Europeans' fear of U.S. military and social aggression in paranoid ambient textures and fearful beats and rhythms.

And then you had Young Americans, another about-face for an artist frequently compared to a chameleon. But as far as I know, Bowie has never changed color. But he has always been up for altering his sound and exploring new genres. With 1974's Young Americans, Bowie adopted blue-eyed soul as his flavor of the month.

While it's not Bowie's best work, Young Americans, not so ironically Bowie's most "American" sounding album, did accomplish two things: it made white soul palatable for the mainstream and its chart success cemented Bowie's place in popular music as a honest-to-goodness superstar. Even the radio at work here at F&W Publications headquarters in little Iola, Wis., plays that soaring title track, with that bleating saxophone solo and gospel-style backing vocals, over the loudspeakers now and then. And of course, the album also featured the robotic funk workout "Fame." Belying the somewhat superficial nature of Bowie's white soul experiment were pointed lyrics about drugs, unhealthy sexual relations and socio-political issues, and that makes Young Americans, if not essential, then pretty damn important.

On June 5, an expanded special edition CD/DVD reissue of Young Americans streets. Done up by Virgin/EMI, It includes a remastered version of the original album, plus three bonus tracks, new audio mixes — overseen by none other than famed producer Tony Visconti — and rare TV clips, including a Bowie performance on the "Dick Cavett Show." One of the bonus tracks is one of my personal Bowie favorites, "John, I'm Only Dancing."

Along with the Young Americans reissue, there'll be more Bowie on the way in the form of yet another greatest hits package. This one spans the Let's Dance, Tonight and Scary Monsters era and is titled The Best Of David Bowie 1980-1987: Sight & Sound. As expected, the first half of the album is fantastic, packed with singles versions of "Let's Dance," the creepy, "Major Tom" revisitation "Ashes To Ashes," "Fashion," "Modern Love" and "China Girl." The 1999 digitally remastered version of "Up The Hill Backwards" is included, along with the film version single edit of "Cat People (Putting Out The Fire)" and Bowie long-forgotten collaboration with the Pat Metheny Group, "This Is Not America."

The DVD sports 15 video clips of Bowie's top '80s cuts, most of them previously mentioned above. Previously unavailable videos for "The Drowned Girl" and "When The Wind Blows" make it a promising collection.

But seriously, do you really need another collection of Bowie's best? Actually, the more I think about it, I might, if only for the DVD. But if you're bored with the assembly line frequency of Bowie greatest hits packages, I don't blame you.

He may mumble incoherently and swear a blue streak. He may have slaughtered "Take Me Out To The Ballgame." And his kids may be a little mouthy.

Still, there's no denying that Ozzy Osbourne remains the high priest of everything heavy metal, and news of a new album rings in my ears as angelic "hosannas" — make that demonic power chords. On May 22, Black Rain is gonna fall, with a deluge of massive riffs no doubt. It's Osbourne's first solo album in six years. To hear samples of tracks from it, fans can log onto http://www.ozzy.com/.

Backed by his touring band, a unit that includes Zakk Wylde on guitar, Mike Bordin on drums and Blasko on bass, Ozzy sounds as heavy as ever, like he's been listening to Slayer or something. The mood is maybe even a tad more gloomy and menacing than past efforts, with songs about drug abuse (something he knows a lot about), human savagery, and environmental cataclysms.

What hits you immediately is Wylde's blizzard of riffs, so powerful and thick that you feel like the floor of heaven is giving way. This isn't a sludgy re-hashing of the Black Sabbath catalog, or a return to the notes-per-nanosecond guitar work of Randy Rhoads years of Diary Of A Madman or Blizzard Of Ozz. This is a whole new beast, one with its head still attached to its shoulders. One that's making spot-on social and political commentary, giving hope to masses of people worn down by violence and evil ("Civilize The Universe") and crushing you with its sheer sonic force of will.

And as big a deal as Black Rain is, news of it gets pushed to the back page by word that Ozzy is making OZZFEST entirely free. You heard right, people. It's free. Ozzy's world tour starts in Moscow, of all places, on May 27 and ends July 6, after which Ozzy will hit North America like a falling anvil. His North American tour begins July 12 in Seattle.

So, what to make of all this? Is this the work of a reputed Satanist, who's been villified by animal rights activists and uptight parents? No, this is the real Ozzy. He's not an ogre. He's not going to recruit your children for the devil's pleasure. If you've ever heard him talk — and contrary to popular belief, he can be coherent — Ozzy is a sweetheart, a Beatles lover at heart who wishes goodwill to everyone. And really, if he loves the Beatles, how dangerous and sinister can he be?

Here's to Ozzy: may your dogs stop defecating on your living room carpet and may Sharon cater to every whim.

Young Galaxy, old souls

Here's a tip on a great new release: Young Galaxy's self-titled debut on the Arts and Crafts label. An amazing album that will be reviewed in a future issue of Goldmine, and is due for release April 24, this is a record of incredible beauty and ambition.

Made specially for lovers of romantic space-pop, Young Galaxy's auspicious first album is the aural equivalent of sleepwalking in a planetarium or an ultra-modern city, and accidently colliding with the person you're meant to spend the rest of your life with. Spacious and sprawling sonic landscapes are the order of the way, giving listeners room to wander about and be transfixed by their depth and variety of textures. The vaporous "The Sun's Coming Up And My Plane Is Going Down" is a marvel of sonic architecture, an affecting meditation on fighting depression and living life to its fullest. And "Searchlight" is one of those great pop songs you can't get out of your head, bittersweet and bouyant, with gorgeous vocals and sweeping instrumentation.

I guarantee you won't be disappointed.