January 11, 2016
‘Oh no, don’t say it’s true…’ When we were teenagers, we used to say, ‘When David Bowie dies, won’t that be weird?’
And it is. I’m not sad; it’s more like the “Awwww!” you make when you’re told you have to get out of the pool and go home. What is saddening is knowing this means people I really do care about will start dying soon, too.
UPDATE — Rick McGinnis has photos he took; writes (Read the whole thing:)
I never thought he would die. It’s a ridiculous thing to say, I know, but as far as I was concerned David Bowie was always there and, based on precedent, always would be.
UPDATE: Rock’s Backpages is lowering the paywall this week for a 1999 career-review audio interview.
He came close to taking his vows as a Buddhist monk, and seriously studied mime, at one point actually opening for rock band Tyrannosaurus Rex in that capacity, with a wordless one-man play about China’s invasion of Tibet. He worked as an advertising illustrator and ran a community arts center; appeared in an ice cream commercial and an independent film; and experimented with both straight and gay lifestyles. He marketed himself as an R&B saxophonist, a mod rocker, and a music-hall-inspired mainstream entertainer, first in a string of undistinguished bands and then as a solo act. He would also incarnate as a hippie folksinger and a principal in a psychedelic performance troupe (Feathers) before emerging as an innovative and controversial mass-media personality, in what must have seemed an overnight ascent to the many who hadn’t been watching closely until then.