A tribute to David Bowie, 1947-2016

A week ago today, on the morning of the 11th January English time, not only did the world lose a superstar, but this girl lost her idol. Bowie has been in my life from the word go, my interests in his music stemming solely from my mother. 

In 1972, at the age of 13, my mum was sitting in front of the TV watching Top Of The Pops when suddenly, as she puts it, her whole life changed. There, on stage, was David Bowie, dressed in a jumpsuit, platforms and glitter, with a flash of orange hair, oozing not only glamour but unbelievable masculinity. It was a shock to so many when he and Mick Ronson put their arms around each other to belt out the chorus of Starman through a shared microphone; it wasn't that they were saying they were gay, but they were certainly letting the world know that they were in charge of their lifestyles, their fashion and their sexuality, whatever they might choose that to be. As an early teen, feeling abandoned and alone in a gloomy boarding school, David Bowie taught my mum that it was ok to be an outsider... In fact, it looked pretty damn good indeed.

Flash forward 41 years and she's watching the footage again - at the David Bowie Is retrospective, held at the V&A. She has one arm around me and one around Suzy, a friend of hers from boarding school days who had a mutual love of Bowie (the two of them used to go into town at the weekends, with little lightning bolts drawn over their eyelids with liner). All three of us are transfixed to the screen and bawling our eyes out as we watch it.

I may not have been born until 1991, but that song and that man still have to ability to draw that kind of emotion out of me. I'd been hearing his songs my whole life, it's true, but it wasn't until I turned 13 that I "found" Bowie (I'd like to point out that the age was coincidentally the same as my mother's, although I would wholly approve of this kind of coming-of-age family ritual...).

The Rise And Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders From Mars. I listen to that album from start to finish and it was unlike anything I had ever heard before. It connected to me in a way that no other music had done previously and I got it! I got what Bowie was saying! Except... What is it that he's actually talking about?! The world's ending? Is Ziggy a guitarist or an alien? It took a few more tries and some reading of the lyrics until it all started to sink in.

But that's the wonderful thing about Bowie. Only one man can actually be him, so even as a mega fan, it's alright to get it a little bit wrong. His lyrics can change everything for you, without you actually being 100% sure what they are! I was witness to a brilliant debate between my mum and a friend of hers, who had been adamant most of his life that in Diamond Dogs, Bowie was singing about a "tennis pump". Really, it's all about the feeling - the feeling of the lyrics and music, and the fashion too.

I was in awe of Bowie's looks, which has sparked a lifelong love for all things Glam Rock for me. How could it be that I thought David and Marc Bolan were the sexiest men I'd ever seen, but at the same time I wanted to look like them too? Again, it's all about being in control of yourself.

I've said in a previous post that if given the choice of only listening to one artist for the rest of my life, picking Bowie would kind of be cheating, as you get all the versions of Bowie along with him. Unlike other artists who are a bit more black and white, with Bowie you're allowed to like folk, psychedelic rock, glam rock, blues, soul, even techno, if you're that way inclined... Listen to Pin Ups and Bowie's technically saying "Hey, these are my mates' songs, and they're pretty good!”.

I was going to spend this blog post talking about the day that Bowie died. How it felt getting the news just after I woke up, right the way through to the end of the day, standing on a street corner in Brixton, singing Rebel Rebel at the top of my lungs with two guitars, a violin, a tuba, and a crowd full of people who felt kind of like family, although nearly all complete strangers. I say nearly all because my friend Sally was there, singing along too and, of course, my mum. I can’t tell you how weird the sensation was, phoning her that morning and telling her what had happened. As for the sensation that I have even today regarding his passing, I think all Bowie fans will know what I mean when I say that I feel a part of me has left. 

David Bowie, the megastar, lived his entire stage life as an actor, playing out different scenes across six different decades, and in true Bowie fashion, his final act, Blackstar, is everything we could hope it to be - the perfect goodbye.

So, belt Heroes out with pride, look up to the night sky and sing Starman and, as I read this week, “if you’re ever sad, just remember the world is 4.543 billion years old and you somehow managed to exist at the same time as David Bowie."

Ashes to Ashes, 35th Anniversary

Brace yourself. I’m about to make a very bold statement.

If I could listen to just one artist for the rest of my life, it would be David Bowie.

(Told you it was bold.)

I guess in a way I’m cheating slightly, because by choosing him I’m actually getting the full spectrum of Bowies, a vast collection of all kinds of personas and genres, from both in and out of this world...

There’s teddy boy Bowie, hippy Bowie, Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, the Thin White Duke, and the Man Who Fell To Earth, not to mention the musical styles transforming through psychedelia, Glam rock (my fave), soul, new wave, electronica and pop. The man is a chameleon.

This is the first of many appearances that Bowie will be making on the blog, so let’s not go into a full detailed history of his rise (…and rise…) now. Instead, I want to take you back thirty-five years to the 8th August 1980 - the day when Ashes to Ashes was released.

Bowie is more than a singer/songwriter. He is, like the best are, a storyteller too, and it was his concept albums and the characters that captured my attention when I was first made aware of his music. Usually these characters just exist within one song or album, but in Ashes to Ashes, Bowie makes reference back to Major Tom, the “Action Man”, from his 1969 classic Space Oddity. 

In Space Oddity, a conversation takes place between Ground Control and astronaut Major Tom, who is successfully launched into space on a solo mission. But after technical complications, communication is lost and Tom is left "floating like a tin can far across the world", we think never to be seen or heard from again. However, jump forward eleven years and Tom's back, making contact with Ground Control once more. He's happy and well, but those on earth are weary of him, describing him as a "junkie, strung out in heaven's high, hitting an all time low". It has been discussed whether Tom is representative of Bowie's struggles with drug addiction. It is suggested, therefore, that in order to progress both musically and in his personal life, Bowie must put old habits behind him.

In past interviews, Bowie has spoken of one song in particular that had an influence not only on Ashes to Ashes, but many of his tracks. Inchworm was sung by Danny Kaye and featured in the 1952 film Hans Christian Andersen. Bowie said:

"I loved it as a kid and it's stayed with me forever. I keep going back to it. There's a child's nursery rhyme element in it, and there's something so sad and mournful and poignant about it... There's a connection that can be made between being a somewhat lost five-year-old and feeling a little abandoned and having the same feeling when you're [an adult]. And it was that song that did it for me."

Ashes to Ashes may not be considered a predominant hit for some Bowie fans, but in fact it has great historical importance. In the UK charts the track went from the No.4 spot straight to No.1 in its first week of release, meaning that it was Bowie’s fastest selling single up until that time (amazing when you consider the cult-like following he had throughout the previous decade). 

The music video was also groundbreaking. Not only did it cost £250,000, which at that point made it the most expensive video ever made, but it also featured effects that had never been seen before, like solarised colour and clever transitions. It may look rather amateur now, but the video is still considered one of the most iconic of the decade. For most of it, Bowie is dressed as Pierrot, adding theatricality to the otherwise dark scenarios; drowning, being locked in a padded cell, and walking in front of a bulldozer (a symbol of "oncoming violence" according to Bowie).

As previously mentioned, my love of Bowie comes from my mother, whose life was changed forever when watching Starman on Top of the Pops aged thirteen (the same age I was when I first delved into her record collection). "I'd never seen anything so beautiful and so extraordinary in my life," she told me. It seemed only natural to invite her to feature on my cover of Ashes to Ashes. So, enjoy!