At the time, Bowie wasn’t at the peak of his popularity. “Although I had had a big hit in the States with ‘Fame’ a few years previously I was not exactly a household name and was more regarded as an alternative artist who got lucky,” he said. But Bowie was known for (and liked) working with distinctive guitarists, including Mick Ronson, Carlos Alomar, and Robert Fripp. And he saw something special in Vaughan. “I probably hadn’t been so gung-ho about a guitar player since seeing Jeff Beck in the early ’60s with his band the Tridents at Eel Pie Island, London,” Bowie continued. “He was so complete, so vital and inventive with the form.”
Vaughan likewise was game to collaborate, and soon after recording in Los Angeles headed to the Power Station in New York City to add his distinctive flair to Bowie’s album, which was called Let’s Dance. The LP was produced by Nile Rodgers, who was known for his work with the disco troupe Chic. Bowie chose the collaborator deliberately. “At the start of the project David had said to me: ‘Nile, I want you to do what you do best—make hits,’” Rodgers told the Guardian. “I was a little offended by that, although I got over it. I was also a little perplexed, because the songs didn’t sound like hits to me!”
Indeed, Let’s Dance leaned into contemporary rock & roll with a vintage twist, led by the sax-heavy dancefloor anthem “Modern Love,” on which Bowie occasionally paid homage to Elvis Presley’s vocals. Vaughan fit right in, often closing out these songs with thoughtful solos. “Without You” leans into the blues already, but the guitarist’s occasional flourishes add buoyancy; the reggae-tinged, electroplated “Ricochet” features Vaughan turning in an evocative performance that dovetails nicely with horns; and on the raucous new wave rocker “Cat People (Putting Out Fire),” he lets loose and rips some of his patented explosive riff bursts.
The title track, meanwhile, is dominated by percolating beats and funky synth work, but ends with an effortless, determined solo from Vaughan that demonstrates his knack for restraint and subtlety. “Making that record was fun all the way,” Vaughan recalled. “David would just say ‘Plug in,’ and I’d do the guitar part after the vocal. He was real easy to get along with, and Nile Rodgers was good at helping to give suggestions as to what to do next, but pretty much all I did was plug in and play.”
