I downloaded Blackstar, David Bowie’s final album, one or two days before its official release on January 9 2016. I was excited, after all the album came relatively unexpected, and seemed to signal the return of the old master.Listening to it made me even more excited. Blackstar was a very good piece of music; experimental, totally relevant, with dark cryptic lyrics that could either be political or very nihilistic. ‘The old master did it again, surprising the world when people least expected it’ was my conclusion. I was happy.
Couple of days later Bowie died. It sent me into a state of shock, a state of more intense grief than I thought was possible. It reminded me of the day John Lennon was killed, the only other time I cried about a rockstar. A month after the event I’m still not over it. I read a lot about Bowie’s life, his music and his relationship with other artists. I listen to his best albums and tracks over and over again. I even rediscover some of his post-scary monsters output, like the magnificent ‘modern love‘. One thing I can’t do anymore and that is listening to Blackstar. It’s too much, too painful, too much about dying in a way. And…I don’t want to cry every time I listen to it. Maybe in 5 years time, but not now. Now…I think I will put on ‘Station to Station‘ again…
Note: by far the best collection of memories, artifacts and memorabilia on Brian Eno’s Twitter feed