Live Till Your Rebirth

So hold on to nothing, and he won’t let you down; oh by jingo…

The dust’s settled a bit. I guess it’s long enough now to be sure that Bowie is, in fact, actually, really dead—at least in this particular timeline (we’re part of a Multiverse)—ignoring the conspiracy theories, obviously. (Oh, don’t ask, and please, don’t squander your precious time Googling. I have warned you.)

I can’t say I’m cool with this strange new world that doesn’t contain David Bowie as a living, breathing entity. I’ve been here before, with the deaths of other heroes and beloved family members, and it’s never less than shit. But you can accept something without liking it. That’s roughly where I am. Once more.

I still haven’t listened to the Blackstar album again. There’s a strange split, it seems, amongst the fans—some virtually have the album on repeat, others can’t bear to play it for the time being. Either reaction is valid. Anyhow: I’ve set myself a goal for the coming months, so that at the end of this little project, I will indeed be playing DB’s final album* again, if I don’t in the meantime…

Namely, I’m planning to listen to each of Bowie’s albums, one per week starting at the beginning and in chronological order, and scribble my thoughts & feelings down here. I’m seeing it as a journey through the entire body of work now that it’s strictly finite.

So, in the next week or so—my thoughts on the Early On compilation and the original 1967 debut album.

1 thought on “Live Till Your Rebirth”

  1. Fans of Stanley Kubrick’s films are similarly inclined to view Full Metal Jacket as his last ‘official’ release, since he died before handing in the final cut of Eyes Wide Shut and rumours persist that not all his wishes were carried out by Warner Bros.

    I really like the idea of a cumulative assessment of David Bowie’s canon, and look forward very much to reading this week’s inaugural instalment.

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