понедељак, 14. март 2016.


Rough night. Restless. Difficult morning. The first one without Bowie. On this planet, at least. 
Two blogs written, both of them erased. Nothing is good enough. Worthy enough.
The first colossus that leaves during my mature age deserves more. Better.
He deserves music. Lots of music. Bowie's music.
God bless fast download. Compilation from 2014, „Nothing has changed”. It's not important how it's called. It's important that it contains as many song as possible. From the entire career. Not counting the sinister „Blackstar”, published just three days before his death.
What an exit! Worthy of a legend. New album against mortality. From studio to grave.
No, don't go there, you'll get mushy early in the morning. Go back to music. Sit in your car. Travel from your village to the city, like any other day. Step on the throttle. Feed your soul. Play the compilation.

New stuff goes first. Still good, although not on „his” level. But these are all „his” songs! So different from anything that's being recorded these days.
„Sue”. Sick. Seven and a half minute non-listenable intermezzo. In your face, Lady Gaga! Miley Cyrus. Bitch, please! It's well known who has always been and who will always be the biggest freak on the world music scene.
„Where are we now?” What an homage to Berlin. Bowie and Berlin. An artist in an artistic town. Him, Iggy Pop, Depeche, U2 (before turning into compost), R.E.M. What a string. Started with Bowie.
„Stars are out tonight”. Top song. Top video. Michael Jackson invented music videos. Bowie raised them to an art form. It's not for everybody. Bowie isn't for everybody. It's always been like that. And it'll always be. Starting from today.
No. No tears. Drive on. Fast forward through lesser known songs. There will be time for them too, but not today.
Give it to me! Trent fuckin' Reznor. „I'm afraid of Americans”. Me too, David. Me too. What a video. What a duo. Man, he inspired so many great people. Funny how I inspired someone who inspired me.
No, no, no. You won't be going there. Not a word on Freddie. Go back to Bowie.
Trashy '90s. „Hello Spaceboy”. Pet shop boys. Fascination with outer space, astronauts. Bowie came from outer space. Or at least he was an astronaut in some of his previous lives. Anyhow, he wasn't attached to this ol' rock orbiting around the Sun.
Because nobody coming from this planet could write the kind of song with which he enetered your life, via MTV, way back in 1993. Percussions. Pissed off electro beat. Orvelesque video. „Jump they say”. When you're 12, this can be a frightening experience, but also an extraordinary impulse to start researching the „Bowie phenomenon”.
Bowie stands for the '80s. Your decade. The best decade. Decade from CD2.
Change the folder. Shift the gearbox. You're entering the town. Your town.

„Absolute beginners”. Patsy Kensit. Back when you still preferred blondes. Trash movie. Perfect soundtrack. Just like „Cat people”. Music and film. Art. Bowie.
Bowie and Jagger. Aaaaaa!
„Dancing in the street”. Giants, next to each other. Sweet pop cover from some past decades. Doesn't matter. What matters is that they're together. Just like in a famous rumor. In a totally strange way that rises the entire thing to a higher level. Just like Angie Bowie from legendary „Angie”.
„Stones”. There goes one of your generation. One of the indestructibles. Keith Richards, David Bowie and Iggy Pop all looked like they survived the nuclear Holocaust. And they looked like they could survive another one. Apparently one of them couldn't. The biggest chameleon in music world is mortal after all. The Cat. With different eyes.
Halt!Good stuff is yet to come. Your stuff. „Normal” Bowie. If there was ever one.
„This is not America”. A more peaceful intermezzo for a couple of traffic lights. Let's go on, speeding up. You're in a boulevard.
„Blue Jean”. That's it. Non commercial. Melodical. Pop, but not mainstream. Like Depeche, your favorites. He inspired them too. Just like everybody else.
And then it starts. THE combo. Three songs. Back to back. Mega hits. Album „Let’s dance”. 1983. You were still in diapers, so you could not listen to it live. Retroactive discovery of everything that inspired you. Retroactive life. Retroactive country.
But the music was there. And it always has been. Your escape from this world. Your space capsule. Bowie's space capsule.
„Modern love”. Modern world. David’s world. What a monster hit. Chartbreaker. Makes you want to move. To swivel your arms in the car seat. People from other cars are laughing at you. You don't give a fuck. They laughed at Bowie, too.
You never have. You've always loved him. In some strange way, but you loved him. And you still do.
And how could you not love him when the title track from his best album ever starts? „Let's dance”. No one will ever play that outwordly guitar riff like Stevie Ray Vaughn. Nor produce the best diamond single like Nile Rodgers. What a crew. What a song.
Some more great people are about to follow. More great songs yet to come. „China girl”. Better than Iggy's. Baritone. Natural charmer. Entrance to the '70s. 
Berlin era. Bowie's era. Some history making. Entire music industry evolving. All aboard the time machine! Destination: 23rd century!
„Fashion”. From 35 fuckin' years ago! Song from the future. Man from the future. Time traveler. Rewriting history.
Up until yesterday.

„Ashes to ashes”. Another gem from the time machine. I would send it via „Voyager” to travel across the Solar system. As a message to the aliens. Hey, we've got one of your own here! And he's a magnificent specimen.
Was. Is. Will be. Forever. And ever.
Like HIM. Ta-ta-ta-tata-tata-ta. Deacon's bass. Rodger's drums. Bryan May's clean guitar. And yes, Freddie's tenor.
„Under pressure”. Queen and Bowie. Can it possibly be better than that? No, it can't. And it'll never be.
Bowie knows that as well. Hence that moving tribute to Freddie on Wembley.
Wipe away those tears. Get your eyes on the road. You'll get yourself killed. You can't do that.
There's so much music to listen to. Teach the new generations. Give them the answer to a million dollar question:
„Who's the best frontman ever?”
Farrokh Bulsara. Yes, Freddie. The one, the only. Inimitable. Gone too soon for you to be his contemporary.
But Bowie hasn't. You were lucky. He was there for your coming of age. To hold your hand when you were weak and prone to bad influences. But you never stood a chance. Not with your elder brother. Not with your parents. They saw him at his peak, at the very end of '70s. Tall, skinny homosexual, as described by your conservative father.
But, what a tall, skinny homosexual!
I wish I could swim. Like dolphins can swim. „Heroes”. A song that deserves a separate blog. Song for all eternity. David's best song. Dedicated to Berlin wall. Used in the movies countless times, but never as effective as in „Perks of being a wallflower”. Emma Watson, Logan Lerman, Ezra Miller. Wonderful kids. In a wonderful film. In a wonderful scene in the tunnel. Bowie's help to the new generations. To get themselves together. To rise up. However reclusive, misunderstood and weird they are.
Weirdo. That's Bowie alright. Not rock, nor pop, but Bowie. Not homo, nor hetero. Bowie.
A visionary. With a capital „V”. Visionary of sound and vision. But a plethora of imaginary characters as well.
Like Thin White Duke. Interwoven with vices. All kinds of vices. Living on the maximum. Afterburn. No backup, no withholding anything. As Billy Idol would say: „Even if I got AIDS, it was worthy it.”
And it sure as hell was.

Compressing years into days, not months. „Golden years”. Hippy style. This song is loved even by techno maniacs. Everybody loves Bowie. Whatever they listen to, they know that he was one of the rare clean sources.
And the source gave us only high quality stuff in those years.
„Fame”. The songs are getting more and more eternal. How did that sound back in 1975? Co-written with Lennon. He has reached The Beatles as well. What's Clapton to blues, Bowie's in pop and alternative music. A man everybody desired to work with, even just for a little while. Eric has mourned him on „face” also. Who hasn't? All the great ones have.
You are as big as how many people you've touched during your lifetime. And David has touched millions. Thousands of them geniuses.
A tear rolls down the cheek. Tears. Swallow them. You must. A couple more turns and you're there. A couple more songs and the compilation will be over.
Songs are speeding up. To the speed of light. To Ziggy Stardust.

PHOTO: www.rtvbn.com

You never loved that phase. Visually repellent, too aggressive. Too weird, even for Bowie's standards. On the other hand, riffs of „Rebel, rebel” and the atmosphere of „Sorrow” continued to change the face of 1970s mainstream. With „Ziggy Stardust” and „Changes” the icon of all weirdos and misfits from the margin was born. A Messiah for the ones from „the edge of the light”. A creature from the other planet for uptight Englishmen and the entire music establishment.
Maybe Bowie was an alien after all. Some modern interpretation of monolith from „Space Odyssey”. Superior intelligence sent to upgrade us a civilization. That would explain a lot of things in his music career. Just like daltonism earned during the fight with his best friend over a girl in which he almost lost his eye would explain a lot of his outfits.
Maybe that fascination with outer space and astronauts was just a primary purpose of the being we learned to love during the years under the name of David Bowie. The being that has never sold us.
Maybe our „Starman” from „Life on Mars?” actually represented version 1.0 of David Robert Jones.
Maybe Major Tom reached us with his sapcecraft from „Space oddity”.
Maybe that Major Tom was actually Major Bowie.
And maybe he, like Rutger Hauer in „Bladerunner” simply reached the end of his life cycle, finally becoming ready to step through that door on that January the 11th 2016 and speak to ground control for one last time.
To tell us that everything is all right and that we can continue on our own from this moment on, despite the termination of his mission among us.
That he doesn't know what that place he is going to looks like, but that it will definitely be interesting.
That we can continue to listen to him broadcasting on all frequencies for as long as there is juice in his batteries, enabling him to send his message to all the civilizations that may be listening.
That we shouldn't mourn over him, but celebrate the privilege of being his contemporaries.
That we should teach our children things he taught us. And that our children should tech their children the same.
That we are, as Logan Lerman's character says in „Perks of being a wallflower”, all eternal.
But we know that we aren't.
Unlike you.
Mr. Bowie.
You arrived.
Turn off the engine. Secure the vehicle. Turn off the player.
Let he tears flow.
You deserved it.
And so did Mr. Bowie.
Wherever he may be right now.


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