“The truth of course is that there is no journey. We are arriving and departing all at the same time.”
It still doesn’t feel real, and I’m not sure it ever will. Is the concept of life and death even applicable to someone like David Bowie? His legacy is so much bigger than the idea of him not being a living breathing resident of this planet anymore. The Starman went back from whence he came – and he’s probably smiling at all of us idiots because he’s fooled us all one last time.
Initially I wanted to review Blackstar, which was released just three days ago on his 69th birthday on January 8th. Critics have been praising it – but nobody realised that this was David Bowie saying goodbye the only way David Bowie would. Through art. In retrospect, the singles Blackstar and Lazarus spelled it out before our very eyes, and yet nobody caught on (or wanted to) that he was saying farewell – leaving the rest of us mortals with one last stroke of genius to marvel at.
Look up here, I’m in heaven / I’ve got scars that can’t be seen / I’ve got drama, can’t be stolen / Everybody knows me now.
“And you remained the reliable mortal amongst all the immortal shapes you have thrown. […] Yet, I think the thing I’m loving most about the last few weeks is how clear it is now – how undeniable – that the freak becomes the great unifier. The alien is the best company after all, for so many more than the few. […] Dave Jones, our not so absent, not so invisible, friend. Every alien’s favourite cousin. Certainly mine. We have a nice life. Yours aye, Tilly.”
Oh no love, you’re not alone / No matter what or who you’ve been / No matter when or where you’ve seen / All the knives seem to lacerate your brain / I’ve had my share, I’ll help you with the pain / You’re not alone.