Oh, how Bowie fans do like to bicker about the veracity of the so-called "Berlin Trilogy", which most Bowiephiles and studied music geeks cite as 1977's Low and "Heroes", and 1979's Lodger.

At most, these three albums have one well-known thread pulling them together: Brian Eno. The man's influence is clear on all three albums, but let's not forget that production of this alleged "triptych" is credited primarily to Bowie and Tony Visconti - as all the classic '70s Bowie albums were.

As for these three records being a "Berlin Trilogy", let's get this out of the way once and for all: read any Bowie bio or fan site worth its weight in stardust, and you'll learn "Heroes" was the only one of the three titles which was completely recorded in Berlin.

Pieces of Lodger were indeed created in Berlin, though it was also recorded in New York, London and Zurich. Furthermore, it breaks with the tradition of the "trilogy" by deviating from the structure of the previous two studio albums - the B-side of Lodger is not comprised of ambient instrumentals. It's just a good ol' fashioned no-wave era pop album.

This album could be seen as a catch-basin release coming at the close of Bowie's dip into the well of electronic experimentation, as much of Lodger seems the result of an album thrown into a blender. "Red Money" is Iggy Pop's "Sister Midnight" with different lyrics; the music to "Move On" is "All the Young Dudes" played backwards; and the classic bombast of "Boys Keep Swinging" was the result of the studio musicians switching instruments.

Truly, anything goes on Lodger, and that's what makes the album a sweet dessert to the heavy meal of his previous two studio albums, with their heady concepts and obtuse sonic experiments. "DJ" is a camp butt-shaker worthy of the hot pink jumpsuit Bowie wore in the accompanying video, and songs like "Red Sails", "Look Back in Anger" and "Fantastic Voyage" have a snug spot in the man's 'best-of' bin.

Even lesser-loved Lodger tunes like "Yassassin" and "Repetition" bring squeals of delight to hardcore Bowie freaks when the man dusts them off for another go 'round on tour. This could mainly be due to the fact that Lodger is arguably Bowie's last gasp as the '70s provocative purveyor of bleeding-edge modern music.

His next album, Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps), would keep him rooted in a new wave wonderland, but his intentions would begin to peek through the neon haze: a Broadway run here, a few MTV veejays spotted in a video there, maybe a film project or two...all signs were pointing to Bowie moving out of the 'difficult music' ghetto and working toward a more mainstream appeal. And so it went...

In the meantime, Lodger is a loud, schizophrenic, paint splattered patchwork quilt of noise and ideas, doubtless the result of several years of experiments that were orphaned for stronger material or concepts. Presented as a mish-mosh labyrinth of songs, this is a tasty little slice of chaos that serves as a perfect climax to an entire decade's groundbreaking classic material.