DAVID BOWIE

I have always loved David Bowie.  Back in 1976 I would listen to Station to Station late into the night, along with Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody (released 1975) and Led Zepp’s Stairway to Heaven (released earlier in 1971 but very much a song of the era).   They were my anthems of the time.  I was 14.  These songs were on repeat on my little tape recorder by my bed.  I would read, study and dream to these soundtracks.  There were other bands, of course, 10CC, Chicago, Supertramp, Blondie and Tom Petty to name a few, but those three songs were particularly special – and they were long ones too.

I wasn’t into posters on the wall or overt “fandom” etc, I just had a very deep appreciation for the music and artistry I was drawn to.  It took me to a very lovely creative place that was a cut above every-day life in suburban Auckland.  Bowie stood out.

Space Oddity (1969) had already introduced Bowie to our turntables and The Laughing Gnome had made its quirky appearance even earlier, much to his own chagrin.  (A quite delightful offering, I think).  Some enduring songs came next, including Changes and Life on Mars.  There was also the rather endearing Kooks which he wrote for his son Zowie – now Duncan Jones, film director.  Ziggy Stardust burst onto the scene shortly after, in 1972, with outrageous outfits, orange hair and a rebel attitude.  And a raft of songs that any Bowie fan will never forget – Suffragette City, Starman, The Jean Genie (written about Iggy Pop), Rebel Rebel, Fame, to name a few.

Then came Sorrow, in 1973, a cover version of a song originally performed by The McCoys and more notably by The Merseys.  Bowie did a lot of covers of songs that took his fancy. This one was a real hit for him.

Much as I loved Sorrow, it was Station to Station that really hooked me in.  This Thin White Duke era may have been when he was at his most vulnerable and tormented point in life, but the music was, nevertheless, truly masterful.

The Berlin years produced the totally brilliant Heroes, a song that will endure for all time.  Sound & Vision was a song before its time. Low, Heroes and Lodger are albums that set the music scene of the time in many ways, perhaps not fully recognised back then but appreciated forever once they were.

Let’s Dance  was released in 1983. I was living in London then, and friends and I danced endlessly to all the tracks on the album, in my basement flat in Maida Vale and in nightclubs across the city.  The music was totally infectious. Good times indeed. Going to the “Serious Moonlight Tour” at Milton Keynes was a highlight in life.  

David himself wasn’t fond of his late ‘80s albums that followed the iconic Let’s Dance.  They were too “pop” and “bland” and largely prescribed by his record labels.  He felt he wasn’t being true to himself and, as a creative person, I really do understand where he was coming from.  Having said that, I actually think quite a few songs from those albums are pretty darn good.  I love Tonight, a cover of an Iggy Pop song (as was China Girl). I think the Bowie/Tina Turner rendition of Tonight did that song real justice.

Bowie then changed direction and created the band Tin Machine which had moderate success but was more about experimentation and sharing the energy than anything else. I didn't really click into this era of his music (1989-1991) but appreciate it's purpose in his musical journey.

He went on to record plenty more albums and some seriously good music through the ‘90s and then came a hiatus, a disappearance of sorts.  But he was never idle, he was just doing other innovative things that many people never knew about.  As well as enjoying fatherhood and trying to live a “normal” life in New York.

And then those two final albums that came out of the blue in 2013 and 2016.  Bowie at his very best, and even more astounding than ever.

The man was a true genius.  Fact.  (Sadly, it’s “was” rather than “is”).  

He wasn’t only a singer of extraordinary ability and absolute purity, he was a creative soul who reached far beyond the realms of familiarity.  He made it okay to be unusual and, even though some would have perceived him as being renegade and off-the-rails, he really wasn’t at all.  He did challenge norms, push boundaries and introduce new seemingly outrageous and never-thought-of-before concepts, but he did this with a sense of vulnerability, a winning mix of circumspect and a seemingly eternal youthful abandon.

He was, quite simply, a creative ground-breaker of brilliance.

He wrote amazing songs.  He sang those amazing songs, perfectly.  First time, every time.   Producers always commented on the fact that, here was a man who could nail his recording the first time he sang the song.  Every time.   His voice was pure, pitch perfect and unique, his musicality second to none. 

He inspired the musical world.  He bamboozled and entranced.  He engaged generations.  He dazzled even those who thought they couldn’t be impressed by a mere man on stage.  He could play a myriad of instruments.  He had a raft of talents and he showcased them all to us.  Song, film, video, photography, tv, interviews, writing, design, art, fashion, technology ... he embraced every medium you can think of and took them to new levels. 

He toyed with normality.  He astonished and astounded, even when he wasn’t trying.

After a period of selfishness and pomposity, probably a facade for his own self-consciousness, it was giving others opportunity that he thrived on.   Whether giving a fan the time of day, or inviting an unknown guitarist to go on tour with him, it gave him great satisfaction to give people a chance.  And they usually always rose to the occasion.

At times, he trusted people too much and, alas, was let down.  Sometimes he let others, and even himself, down.  But he would recognise and rectify that.  So the residue never lingered too long.

He always looked forwards, never backwards.  He never wondered “what if”, he only thought “what’s next”.  He lived a life less ordinary, from start to finish. 

He may have been eccentric and erratic, merging modern edgy ways with unpredictable ones, but this was his charm and, ultimately, it was his real humanity that shone through on top of everything.  The connection with people, with music, with the ordinary and the extraordinary.  And this is why he will remain in our minds and hearts forever.

He rather enjoyed subtly taking the piss and he was very good at it. Many people who interviewed him through the years never really grasped this.  They thought he was mad but, in reality, he was about as astute as you can get.  Even when high on cocaine. 

Bowie turned his angst and oddity into something that few could contemplate.  Hey, his first ever hit contained that word “oddity” – and that song that will endure for all time.

The lyrics he wrote were sometimes a bit weird, as well as wonderful.  When you hone them down, especially in later years, they were always honest and candid.  He called a spade a spade, and even if some people didn’t recognise the spade, it was still always actually a spade. Take a look, you will find that spade.

One thing that fascinated me is the interesting technique he used to devise and sometimes write his songs – he would write down the lines, cut them all up with scissors and then rearrange and reconfigure them.   Sometimes a song would emanate from this process, and sometimes it would engender a new idea from which a new and masterful song would come.  He enjoyed good things coming from an obscure and seemingly impossible basis. From a disjointed song diary of sorts, he would record, mix and match random thoughts that would ultimately be captured in some of the best songs of all time.

In the mid 1990s he invented the 'Verbacizer', a lyric-writing programme which took this “cut up technique” he had previous used with scissors and put it into a digital format.  It enabled random re‑ordering of words and phrases.  Talk about cutting edge.

It’s probably not widely known that Bowie was a bit of an internet pioneer and was quite consumed by the possibilities of the world wide web in those very early days.  He launched a number of visionary initiatives, including Bowie Bonds and BowieNet.

He never stopped working.  He suffered a heart attack in 2004 during his Reality tour, while performing on stage in Hamburg.  Perhaps he worked too much. He was taken to hospital, had surgery for blocked arteries and recovered.  He was 56 - the same age my father was when he died of a heart attack due to blocked arteries.  Bowie carried on working, although that was his last ever tour.

There are so many layers to Bowie and his life, and this post just touches on tiny pieces of it.

Here are some of the things I, personally, absolutely love about Bowie, apart from the obvious and in no particular order: 

-

•  He toyed with people and didn’t actually give a shit about what the world thought.  It wasn’t about confidence or ego, it was about self-belief and an understanding of humankind (except humans are not always kind).
•  He experienced love at first sight – after seeing a photo of Iman, he wanted to meet her.  He did ... and the rest is history.  (I, too, have known love at first sight - it does happen).
•  Routine was about as far from his mind as it is from mine.  He never stood still, he loved change, he was always looking towards his next song, his next project.  He just didn’t look back in wonder or “what if”.
• He had an unassuming and endearing presence that was about as powerful and unpretentious as it gets.  As well as a twinkle in his eye and a smile that made the heart flutter.
•  He could move.  He could sing.  He could engage on stage.  Charisma galore.
• He pushed the boundaries.  Never content to stick with what he knew worked, he was always looking forwards toward things he wasn’t sure would work or not.  They invariably did.  Challenge suited him.
• He was very comfortable being right outside his comfort zone.
•  He knew when something had run its course.  He didn’t persevere for the sake of record sales or kudos.  He moved on, never quite knowing what the next stage would bring.  Sometimes fans and record companies didn’t like this, but he always knew what his next steps were and he never wavered in his belief of this.  Success always came.  And the fans never went.
•  He loved to experiment and was quite comfortable with whatever the outcome, success or failure.  It was about the experiment, not the result. 
• The Berlin Years - when he escaped the mayhem, took stock of things and produced some of his finest work, in collaboration with Brian Eno (whose daughter I worked with in the 1980s).
  I must take a moment here to reflect ...
  
  I actually went to Berlin myself around the time he was there.  An exceptional city in so many ways.
  There are some lines in Heroes that go:
  
  I, I can remember
  Standing, by the wall
  ...
  And the shame, was on the other side
  ...
  
  Well, I stood in West Berlin by that wall in Dec 1977 (which is the month when Heroes was actually released in New Zealand!), a young 15yo NZ girl, and I remember the moment vividly. I don't think I will ever be able to adequately portray what I felt at that time and I'm not sure I even knew what was going through my mind. We then ventured into East Berlin and the words to describe that day are even harder to find.
  The "shame" Bowie refers to is not so much about sides, this or the other, but about the reality of the division.  And it is shameful that it ever came to that.
  We had driven across East Germany, which was a barren land that seemed totally devoid of personality and joy. Berlin was like an oasis in the middle of a piece of earth rendered desolate on account of war.
  You had to change 6.50DM into East German marks and you couldn't change it back.  We bought ice-creams and cake on "the other side" - there wasn't a lot else to buy and purchasing food was probably an attempt to extricate joy where there was very little to behold.   Checkpoint Charlie was an eye-opening experience that, until then, had only been imagined from history books. Reality jolts, especially when you are young and far from home.
  Having said all this, my time in Berlin was a wondrous and enlightening experience. It was a truly unique place back then.
  And then, on 9th November 1989, The Wall fell and everything changed. Having worked quite a bit in Eastern Europe during that time, and knowing people from East Germany, this was significant indeed.
  
  Oh, I do want to get back to Berlin some time soon ...

Back to Bowie - All these things I admire and can relate to and I view the world in much the same way.   It wasn’t until I reached my 50s, when I really studied his life indepth, that I fully realised the magnitude of his genius, far beyond his music and art.  I admire and appreciate his creativity more now than ever.  My affinity with his genius began when I was a young girl who appreciated him and his music but, as a mature woman, I understand all that he was so much more than ever.  

Now, he is gone, but I still reminisce about him and his music, pretty much on a daily basis.

Such is my admiration for David Bowie that he was my specialist Mastermind topic (see separate posts on INSIDE MASTERMIND).   And that was determined shortly before he died.

Snippet from INSIDE MASTERMIND – The Preparation:

Late one night, in early January, before I know I have made it through audition no.2, I am watching a David Bowie clip on YouTube, marvelling at his voice, his songs, his style, and as much in awe of him as ever.  I think to myself “I wonder what the world would do if he died.”  The thought rather horrifies me and is far too difficult to ponder.  I perish that thought and carry on watching the mesmerising Heroes video.  Or perhaps it was Station to Station, I can't quite recall, I was watching a lot of clips around that time.

A few days later, on his 69th birthday, 8th January 2016, Bowie releases Blackstar and two days after that he is dead.  When the news comes through I am absolutely shocked – by the cold hard reality of it, by the fact he had kept his illness quiet and because I had actually contemplated it, out of nowhere, just days earlier.  The world grieves for this unique man whose genius was at work right up until the bitter end. I can't quite comprehend it.

Heroes is one of his best songs ever – here are three fabulous renditions, all completely different, performed through the years.  His genius never wavered – actually, it just got better.

Heroes - Live Aid 1985
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGOx0ZpMrrU

Heroes - Freddy Mercury Tribute Concert 1992 (with Mick Ronson and Brian May etc)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UsiQgRp5bfQ

Heroes – live in Paris, 2002
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pU9JAvZGaIg

My favourite songs?  Well, if I must pick a few ...

Young Americans from Young Americans
Stations to Station from Station to Station
Heroes from Heroes
Ashes to Ashes from Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps)
Most songs from Let's Dance
Hallo Spaceboy from Outside
Love is Lost from The Next Day
Where Are We Now? from The Next Day
Lazarus from Blackstar