The Thin White Duke
I don't know why I want to put pen to paper about the death of David Bowie. There's been a plethora of effusive and emotive testimonials about the impact that the bloke had on individual lives and I'm not sure that I can add much to the library. However, one thing that struck me about the comments was the relative youth of many of the contributors. It almost seemed like the 'Bowie' generation were just too much in shock and it was left to either his seniors or people who'd come to his work in the 80s and 90s to make something of the terrible news.
It really is hard for people of my generation to explain how important Bowie was. We've all heard about the impact of the Starman TOTP appearance and its subsequent affect on all the young dudes who went on to form bands in the late 70s, early 80s. To be a teenager in the 1970s was a conflicting experience. You saw your elders being ground down by employment where people dressed in greys and browns and everything was either dowdy or seedy. Imagine the Pinups album cover amongst all the monochrome.
After the heyday of 1972-3, Bowie went through a bit of a comedown in the press. They weren't convinced by the 1980 Floor show, Diamond Dogs or David Live. When Young Americans came out, Ian Macdonald gave it an 'interesting' review in the NME and I bought it expecting change, having heard the live album and the single. It blew me away and was the album that made me realise how important Bowie was. We all recognised how great Ziggy and Hunky Dory were, but here was an artist who was taking his fans on a journey of real discovery. Tracks like Can You Hear Me and Win spoke to the 18 year old me like nothing I'd ever heard before. They weren't about my life but they were expressing universal themes which have stayed with me throughout my life.
Imagine being a teenager when Station to Station came out. I can recall running...yes running...home with the album and putting it breathlessly on my turntable. This was the Man Who Fell To Earth speaking to us from his own personal nightmare and I, for one, had never heard anything like it. The opening track again took me to a place that I'd never been before and I played the album endlessly. Travelling alone to London to see the Station to Station tour, I realised then that there were literally hundreds of thousands of people who heard and saw the same things as I did, but Bowie let us experience them in our own way. He spoke to all of us universally but individually.
The following year came Low and again, there was that moment when the stylus hit the vinyl and Speed of Life blasted out of the speakers telling me again that David had produced a thrilling and different type of music.
I could be churlish and talk about Bowie's subsequent up-and-down career - buying Never Let Me Down was a hard lesson to take - but from The London Boys to Lazarus, he's gone places that no other performer or indeed his audience could have gone. We owe him a tremendous debt of gratitude for opening our eyes and broadening our horizons. This 58 year old will never forget the joy and excitement of hearing his mid seventies albums for the first time. They changed me for the better and forever. Thank you Mr Bowie. Love on ya!
It really is hard for people of my generation to explain how important Bowie was. We've all heard about the impact of the Starman TOTP appearance and its subsequent affect on all the young dudes who went on to form bands in the late 70s, early 80s. To be a teenager in the 1970s was a conflicting experience. You saw your elders being ground down by employment where people dressed in greys and browns and everything was either dowdy or seedy. Imagine the Pinups album cover amongst all the monochrome.
After the heyday of 1972-3, Bowie went through a bit of a comedown in the press. They weren't convinced by the 1980 Floor show, Diamond Dogs or David Live. When Young Americans came out, Ian Macdonald gave it an 'interesting' review in the NME and I bought it expecting change, having heard the live album and the single. It blew me away and was the album that made me realise how important Bowie was. We all recognised how great Ziggy and Hunky Dory were, but here was an artist who was taking his fans on a journey of real discovery. Tracks like Can You Hear Me and Win spoke to the 18 year old me like nothing I'd ever heard before. They weren't about my life but they were expressing universal themes which have stayed with me throughout my life.
Imagine being a teenager when Station to Station came out. I can recall running...yes running...home with the album and putting it breathlessly on my turntable. This was the Man Who Fell To Earth speaking to us from his own personal nightmare and I, for one, had never heard anything like it. The opening track again took me to a place that I'd never been before and I played the album endlessly. Travelling alone to London to see the Station to Station tour, I realised then that there were literally hundreds of thousands of people who heard and saw the same things as I did, but Bowie let us experience them in our own way. He spoke to all of us universally but individually.
The following year came Low and again, there was that moment when the stylus hit the vinyl and Speed of Life blasted out of the speakers telling me again that David had produced a thrilling and different type of music.
I could be churlish and talk about Bowie's subsequent up-and-down career - buying Never Let Me Down was a hard lesson to take - but from The London Boys to Lazarus, he's gone places that no other performer or indeed his audience could have gone. We owe him a tremendous debt of gratitude for opening our eyes and broadening our horizons. This 58 year old will never forget the joy and excitement of hearing his mid seventies albums for the first time. They changed me for the better and forever. Thank you Mr Bowie. Love on ya!
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