It's been a decade since David Bowie left us, and his absence still echoes through the music world. The Thin White Duke gave us countless anthems that reshaped rock, but some of his most daring work has been overshadowed by monster hits like "Starman" and "Life on Mars." These three deep cuts from the 1970s—spanning blues, funk, and avant-garde rock—deserve a fresh spin. Let's dust them off.

"Drive-In Saturday" (1973)

In November 1972, Bowie and his band were on a night train through the Arizona desert after triumphant Seattle shows. Unable to sleep, he gazed out the window and spotted a surreal sight: the moonlight glinting off 17 or 18 enormous silver domes. "Apparently they only let the train through this particular stretch of desert late at night," Bowie later recalled. That vision sparked a sci-fi tale set in a post-apocalyptic 2033, where radiation has robbed humanity of its sex drive, and people must learn intimacy again by watching old video films. The result is "Drive-In Saturday," a haunting, romantic track that feels like a lost chapter from a dystopian novel.

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"Stay" (1976)

Written during Bowie's "cocaine frenzy" (as guitarist Carlos Alomar put it), "Stay" captures the paranoia and longing of a man spiraling. The song emerged from sessions for Station to Station, following his collaboration with John Lennon on "Fame." Its chorus—"Stay, that's what I meant to say, or do something / But I never say is stay this time"—lays bare a desperate plea wrapped in funk and soul. Though it never became a hit, critics praised its dark groove, and fans remember it as one of the first performances by Bowie's iconic Thin White Duke persona. For a deeper dive into underrated gems, check out our list of forgotten 80s sci-fi shows that deserve a second look.

"The Width of a Circle" (1970)

Opening Bowie's 1970 album The Man Who Sold the World, this eight-minute epic is a raw, sexually charged exploration of depression and identity. "I used to have periods, weeks on end, when I just couldn't cope anymore," Bowie admitted. The song weaves fantasies of divine encounters and sardonic musings on life's meaning, serving as a personal exorcism. "I tried to analogize the period of my life from when I left school to that time," he said. While listeners may never decode it exactly as he did, its emotional depth is unmistakable. If you enjoy rediscovering overlooked classics, you might also appreciate classic rock's most unforgettable acoustic guitar intros, ranked.

These three tracks prove that Bowie's genius wasn't limited to the charts. They show a restless artist unafraid to experiment with blues, funk, and avant-garde rock, even when the spotlight was elsewhere. So next time you queue up "Heroes" or "Ziggy Stardust," give these forgotten gems a spin—they're every bit as essential.