Even artists as visionary as David Bowie had moments they wished they could erase.
Across a career defined by reinvention — from Ziggy Stardust to the Berlin Trilogy and beyond — Bowie rarely stood still. But while most of his catalogue is celebrated as groundbreaking, there were two songs he openly admitted he disliked so much that he wished he had never written them at all.
1. “Too Dizzy” (1987)
The first regret came from Never Let Me Down, the 1987 album Bowie would later describe as one of the weakest chapters in his career. During that period, he was experimenting with glossy ’80s production and a more radio-friendly direction — a sharp contrast to the art-rock edge that had defined much of his earlier work.
The track Too Dizzy became the main target of his frustration. Bowie later dismissed it as disposable and unworthy of his standards. In fact, he disliked it so much that when the album was reissued in the early 1990s, he removed the song entirely from the tracklist. That decision alone spoke volumes.
Looking back, Bowie felt the song lacked depth and artistic sincerity — qualities he valued above all else. It represented, in his view, a moment where commercial polish overtook creative substance.
2. “The Laughing Gnome” (1967)
The second song came from the very beginning of his career. Released in 1967, The Laughing Gnome was a novelty track built around sped-up vocals and whimsical humor. At the time, Bowie was still searching for identity, experimenting with theatrical pop and music-hall influences.
Years later, however, he openly cringed at the song. Though it unexpectedly reached No. 6 on the UK Singles Chart when re-released in 1973 — during the height of his Ziggy Stardust fame — Bowie never embraced it as part of his artistic legacy. He often spoke about it with embarrassment, treating it as a youthful misstep rather than a serious creative statement.
What makes these admissions compelling isn’t simply that Bowie disliked a few tracks. It’s that he held himself to such exacting standards. He constantly evolved — abandoning personas, reshaping genres, and challenging audiences. Songs that felt superficial or gimmicky, even if commercially successful, conflicted with how he wanted to be remembered.
Ironically, both tracks now serve as historical markers: one reflecting his early experimentation before fame, the other illustrating the pressure-filled pop landscape of the late 1980s.
For an artist who built a career on fearless change, even the songs he regretted reveal something essential — his refusal to settle for anything he considered artistically hollow.
