Remembering Bowie

I went about David Bowie all wrong.
I was introduced to him, by accident, as a child, when I rented a VHS copy of Labyrinth from Couch Potato video. The cover was awesome, I knew and loved the Muppets, and I'd been to Jim Henson's house, so why wouldn't I rent this? He was the Goblin King. All right. Cool.
In my teens, I was reintroduced to him by Trent Reznor, specifically when I heard Reznor on the "I'm Afraid Of Americans"* remix. "David Bowie? ...oh, you mean the Goblin King, yeah, I know him..." The fact that he was friends with Trent Reznor (with whom I was at the height of my obsession at the time) made him cool in my eyes.
I repeat: the fact that David Bowie was friends with Trent Reznor made David Bowie cool in my eyes.
You see what I mean? All wrong.
Soon after, I saw Se7en, and did some homework when I heard Bowie again, moaning and hissing on "Heart's Filthy Lesson". I discovered Outside. 
Things finally started clicking for me in 1999, but neither fast nor hard enough.
My first year of college, a whole bunch of Bowie's earlier work was reissued, from Space Oddity to the first Tin Machine album. The combination of cable Internet, the birth of Napster, and my impecunious status as a college freshman resulted in a lot of stolen, low-quality Bowie music burned, haphazardly, onto CD-Rs. And, even though I had Bowie's full catalog at my fingertips, I still didn't get a lot of it.
Eventually, I did what I should have done years before and sat down with everything. I learned that I loved his earlier work and his later work but was lukewarm on most of the middle of his career, aside from Low. I learned that David Bowie was the Funkiest White Man Alive**. I learned what his wang looked like by watching The Man Who Fell To Earth.
After that, Bowie was just...there, like this musical spirit with a song or album for every mood or feeling. Then, in 2003, he puts out Reality, which closes with "Bring Me The Disco King". After hearing that for the first time, I declared Bowie's career over. If he never recorded another note, that would be fine, because "Disco King" was the perfect end to David Bowie's career. "You promised me the ending would be clear/you'd let me know when the time was now/don't let me know when you're opening the door/stab me in the dark, let me disappear". Fucking come on, man! He'd said everything he needed to and would now just be David Bowie, enjoying all the things that encompassed. But, I'll be damned if, a decade later, he drops The Next Day, which, I will confess, hasn't sunk in with me yet. I dug all the videos and a few tracks, and I get that it's good, but it just never did it for me.
Then, in November...surprise..."Blackstar". This song and video changed me. I'd never heard anything like it, I'd never seen anything like it. Bowie was about to create a new world for us, like Diamond Dogs or Outside, except this time, he was going to do so with almost seventy years of life and experiences under his belt. This was going to be...unparalleled.
I got my review copy and was disappointed. Not because it wasn't a good album, it was a very good album, but it wasn't the album I had wanted from David Bowie.
I repeat: I was disappointed because it wasn't the album I had wanted from David Bowie. 
Instead of starting things off with "Blackstar" and continuing to reveal this new world to us...we got some leftover tracks from a year ago, a song from this play Dexter was in, Bowie's love letter to a secret, British, gay language***, and some wistful and reflective tracks that were wistful and reflective. 
I was beginning to tire of the album, as I'd been listening to nothing else for a week or more, so, last week, I decided to spend more time with the second two installments in his Hansa Trilogy, "Heroes" and Lodger, both of which I had heard but never really listened to. The evening of Thursday the 7th, I attended a performance of Lazarus, the night after, on his 69th birthday, I watched Tony Visconti, Woody Woodmansey and friends perform all of The Man Who Sold The World, most of Ziggy Stardust, and a handful of other early Bowie hits, live, and, at one point, Visconti had us sing "Happy Birthday" to David into Visconti's phone, then, two days later, this.

This will sound idiotically naive, but I somehow thought Bowie would outlive all of us.
He was so many things to his fans: angel, alien, sex symbol, angelic alien sex symbol; I feel like we're more devastated than his family could possibly be, as they only knew and loved him as a man, a father, a husband.

In the wake of his passing, we're all going to be exposed to a whole hell of a lot of people remembering, recounting, and reliving their own Bowie Moments, but in light of the fact that he knew about his illness and that everything on his final album was meant to be a farewell to the world, nothing will ever be a more eloquent, poignant, and haunting eulogy than the one he wrote for himself in the album, its artwork, and the videos for "Blackstar" and, especially, "Lazarus". 
David Bowie spun death.

But Bowie means something different to everyone. To me, Bowie will be forever pursued through the streets of downtown New York City by a goateed Trent Reznor, will always be ruthlessly mocking Ricky Gervais in song, and will always, always, always be the Goblin King.
And the Goblin King can never die.

* At the time of its release, 1997 or '98, I had never heard "Heroes".

** An honor/burden that now falls upon Beck.

*** When I heard about that, the first words out of my mouth were, "Of course he's doing a song like this, he's David fucking Bowie."

CLOSURE! (part 4)

David Bowie: The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars
Ziggy Stardust is one of my favorites because it is the first concept album I heard and liked (an uninteresting side note: the first concept album I heard that I didn’t like was Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’, too much concept, not enough music). This album was David Bowie taking on the persona of Ziggy Stardust; an alien who forms a band called the Spiders from Mars, becomes a rock and roll superstar and then self destructs (not literally). Not only is almost every song amazing, but the story it tells is completely unique and even though each song is part of a larger whole, they can all stand on their own excellent works. Another cherry aspect of this album is its ability to be timeless. At any point in time, it is consistently better than almost anything else popular at the moment. The first track ‘Five Years’ sets up the story of the album: the Earth has five years before it dies (for some reason or other). Then in ‘Starman’, a ‘visitor’ is seen in the sky; perhaps he is sent to save the Earth. ‘Lady Stardust’ tells the story of Ziggy trying to fit in on Earth, trying to become a singer. ‘Star’ further outlines his journey and decision towards stardom. ‘Ziggy Stardust’ is the band Ziggy Stardust & the Spiders from Mars performing an autobiographical piece. Eventually, the band gets too famous and, like I said, self destruct (metaphorically). That ending is depicted in the last track ‘Rock N’ Roll Suicide’. Aside from the songs that contribute directly to the narrative, there are some unforgettable Bowie tracks such as ‘Moonage Daydream’, ‘Hang Onto Yourself’ and ‘Soul Love’ (which has a beat and a sax that just make me pregnant) that continue to rock after three fucking decades. Historically, it is one of Bowie’s defining moments/albums that earned him about 40 to 45 percent of his four hundred billion fans. Musically, it’s like a lot of early Bowie; good solid British 70’s rock, but with strings behind everything doing an amazing job emphasizing, accentuating and further explaining what the lyrics, guitars, drums and keyboards cannot. This album is one of the main reasons that Bowie is cool on such a galactic scale. Another reason is his huge “dance belt” from Labyrinth. If I had watched that movie like 4 more times as a kid I would be sucking dick right now.

Prince: Purple Rain
See the problem with Prince is that he has a lot of excellent songs but none of them are on the same album. Everyone owes the Hits discs one and two, but seldom do you see people owning more than one of Prince’s thirty plus albums, and that’s understandable. Yes, I said it. 70% of all Prince albums, on average, are unlistenable. Once he became the symbol, that percentage goes up to 95. However, even if it’s unlistenable, it’s goddamn sexy whatever it is. Back to what I was saying, I think one of the only albums of his that goes against the numbers is the Purple Rain soundtrack. It’s all original material recorded for the movie, so it’s not a “best of” or anything like it. It is pure sex on disc. Although all the songs are great, the highlights include “The Beautiful Ones”, “Darling Nikki and the title track. The other songs all kick ass and provide good music, but these songs are total unbridled emotional expression. Sometimes I feel that lyrics get in the way of the true meaning of a song and that’s why I appreciate a nice instrumental from time to time, but Prince has lyrics and pure expression in these three particular songs. "Darling Nikki" is a clear expression of lust and loss. When he starts screaming at the end, you feel the echoes of his orgasms from the night before and how sad it is to have lost that. "The Beautiful Ones" is his lovescream. The lyrics:

Do u want him?
Or do u want me?
Cause I want u
Said I want u
Tell me, babe
Do u want me?
I gotta know, I gotta know
Do u want me?
Baby, baby, baby
Listen 2 me
I may not know where I'm going (babe)
I said I may not know what I need
One thing, one thing's 4 certain baby
I know what I want, yeah
and if it please u baby
please u, baby
I'm begging down on my knees
I want u
Yes I do
Baby, baby, baby, baby
I want you

Yes I do

Nothing special, right? Right, on paper. But you hear the emotion in his voice and you feel these words rather than hear them. Then Purple Rain: a sad song with just his lyrics and the melody, but as soon as he starts crooning at the end, all the words drop away and we see the real Prince, baring his soul. Along with these super-meaningful powerful songs are the usual Prince superfuck songs. One (Let’s Go Crazy) which advises us to “look for that purple banana before they put us in the truck”. How can anyone deny the importance of these words? Still as true today as they were when they were written. Lastly, if you can’t get laid to this album, you should have been aborted and I suggest you rectify that mistake now.

Scissor Sisters: Scissor Sisters
 Almost every one of their songs just oozes pure unbridled sexuality, or in some cases, it oozes almost unbridled sexuality, which, in a way is almost sexier. I first heard of Scissor Sisters when Christina’s brother’s friend’s whoever-the-fuck, the radio DJ, said they were great. He also said they were Franz Ferdinand. So, I downloaded the Franz Ferdinand album. It sucked and my faith in some person who I didn’t know was shattered. Eventually, it was discovered that he had confused the two because the big single for FF was ‘Take Me Out’ and the big single for SS was ‘Take Your Mama (also thought of as ‘Take Your Mama Out’). An honest mistake. Anyhoo, my first exposure to Scissor Sisters (for real) was to see their video for ‘Take Your Mama’. It changed my life. The band consists of five members, Del Marquis, Paddy Boom (drummer), Baby Daddy, Ms. Ana Matronic and Jake Shears (lead vocals). They all have such personalities that listening to them takes on a whole new dimension. The vocals/lyrics are slightly Beck, slightly Prince and mostly saturated in warm sex. Since I love Beck, Prince and warm sex, this was the band for me. Musically, I think what does it for me is the same thing that makes Guns N’ Roses ‘Illusion II’ do it for me, the use of pianos in a non-piano setting. They are super fun and you wouldn’t expect to hear a piano here, but sure enough: pianos abound. Their breakout hit in the UK (where they are considered Gods) is a glam dance cover of Pink Floyd’s ‘Comfortably Numb’. It sounds like a mix of Floyd and Bee Gees. The song ‘Filthy Gorgeous’ is another favorite. The song has an irresistible disco beat that makes you want to tear your clothes off and fuck things. With lyrics like “I’m a classy honey kissy huggy lovey dovey ghetto princess” and “You’re an acid junkie college flunky dirty puppy daddy bastard” sung in an endearing falsetto, you can’t help but grizzoove. There are also a few heartfelt tracks on the album. “Mary” and “It Can’t Come Quickly Enough” are slower, but they still reek of sour sexy sweat. The final track on the album is called ‘Return to Oz” and addresses Frank L. Baum, the Return to Oz movie and it also references characters from “The Dark Crystal” while managing NOT to sound stupid. In that song there is also a guitar solo or two that would make Pink Floyd call their lawyers to check out precedents in “Guitar Solo Copyright Infringement” cases. They have a DVD coming out in January (fuck you, Will) that has a concert of theirs along with all their videos, which are also fantastic. In a nutshell, pretty much every song on the album would fit right in on an episode of “Queer As Folk”.

Red Hot Chili Peppers: One Hot Minute
This is more of a favorite from my past, but it’s still a favorite and I still love it. And this is the fucking Department of Redundancy Department Organization I’m an idiot. This album marks the first time RHCP broke the mold with their music. After OHM they continued to break the mold and I haven’t liked an album since. This album is special. Except for “Warped”. “Warped” is not special. “Warped” is a radio single, pure and simple. But the rest is great. This album has elements of spoken words scattered among the crazy fuck bass the flea specializes in and the heroin fueled guitar of Dave Navarro. The melodies on the whole thing are really tight and memorable. “Pea”, the Flea solo song, is amazing and his truculent little voice just brings new meaning to “I don’t have a lot of reasons to list why I like this album I just do so fuck you.” Children singing on “Aeroplane”: Awesome. Melody for “My Friends”: Awesome. Lyric from “Coffee Shop”: Meet me at the coffee shop/We can dance like Iggy Pop: Awesome. Everything about “Pea”: Awesome. Super funk I “Walkabout”, the tearjerking powers of “Tearjerker”, the rest of the album: Awesome.

Johnny Cash: The Man Comes Around
I hate country music. I am as physically angered by it as I am physically aroused by Prince music. Country music gives me a hate-on. The rest of the time it leaves me stricken with bowel-shattering diarrhea. So why in the piss-stained socks do I have a Johnny Cash album on my thing here? I believe that Cash WAS country and CAN be country, but also that he can transcend country. This album, with the exceptions of two or three tracks towards the end, is that transcendent type of Cash music. As you might know, Cash died soon after putting this album out and by listening to the way he says “weary” (see entry) I can imagine he was happy to go. Before he died, his wife killed herself. Cash then went to producer Rick Rubin (who had done his last three or so albums) and said that if he didn’t start recording music twenty-four hours a day, he would follow suit. That’s the mindset he was in when he did this album. This is the perfect “I Am About to Die” album. Every track has such weariness and feeling behind it that he is able to make such incredibly well-known songs such as the Beatles “In My Life” and Depeche Mode’s painfully overcovered “Personal Jesus” completely his own. As far as the spiritual/traditional songs like “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” and “Danny Boy” he also brings new “life” to them and by “life” I mean “I wonder how this song would sound sung by a dead body”. His original title track is terrifyingly apocalyptic and I can picture him just reciting into a tape recorder what he sees when he closes his eyes, the whole “pale rider and his name was Death” bit. He redefines Nine Inch Nails’ “Hurt” and in case you haven’t seen the Mark Romanek video for “Hurt”, you don’t know what it’s like to actually see death on film. But this album isn’t all sadness and death. On “Sam Hall” I can’t stop laughing at the cantankerous old bastard Cash portrays. The final track “We’ll Meet Again” is one of the saddest songs ever recorded. Johnny Cash and his whole surviving family singing this cheerful lil’ ditty in an off key Disney-esque manner is enough to make anyone break down into convulsive sobs, especially after listening to the rest of the album with its heart stabbers “Hurt”, “Give My Love To Rose”, Bridge”, “In My Life” etc.

In case anyone is still bored or has even more time on their hands, here are some links to some of the bands above (don't worry, no mufftorrents here...):
Beck
Cake
eels
Marilyn Manson
Nine Inch Nails
Scissor Sisters
They Might Be Giants