I wasn't standing up when the news of David Bowie's death came to me yesterday. It was something I didn't want to believe was true. An icon of my youth, now dead, makes me think dark thoughts about my own mortality.
I am deeply shocked and saddened by his death, 69 is just too young especially for someone we expected so much more from. Tributes are all over the news and social media and come from thousands of people who he meant so much to for many different reasons. His reinventions and changes of persona over time mean he has a vast amount of fans.
Top of the Pops
My first exposure to him was obviously on Top of the Pops in his Ziggy Stardust days when my grandma questioned whether he was girl or a boy! He did make us ask questions we'd never asked before. I was a fan of many glam rock stars during the 70s, some with very questionable talent. I knew in my heart that Bowie was different and the best. We had Bowie LPs and I listened to them with the arm back on my record player, so that they would repeat over and over and they became ingrained in my brain so that I, not only knew all the words to a song, I also knew how long the silence was until the next track and could sing that one too.
My-going-to-see-David Bowie Story
During my teenage years we had no telephone in the house, there was no internet and I had no knowledge of banks, cheque books or credit cards. If I wanted a ticket to see a band I had to travel to the venue box office, buy the ticket in advance and travel home again. News of who was on and where was in The Northern Echo or New Musical Express which I sometimes bought but not regularly.
I don't remember exactly where I saw the advert that David Bowie was going to be on at Newcastle City Hall but I do remember me and my friend deciding we could afford it if we saved our pocket money and that we desperately wanted to go. But we couldn't afford the bus fare to Newcastle which was over an hour away and anyway my mother wouldn't let me go on the bus alone!
I cut out the coupon from The Northern Echo, filled in the necessary details and bought a postal order to cover the price of two tickets from the village Post Office. We waited. I checked the letter box on an hourly basis to see if the stamped addressed envelope I had dutifully enclosed was returned with the tickets.
I was disappointed, obviously, when it was returned, rejected with SOLD OUT printed on the coupon. Crestfallen I had to relay the news to my friend. We would not be going to see David Bowie.
So It's not a happy ending and I regret not being more forceful and getting myself off to Newcastle on the bus to buy those bloody tickets. Ah well...
Happy Part
The happy part is that I did eventually see him live, once, here in Hong Kong in 2004. He was cool and played all the material that I longed to hear, but it wasn't his hey day or mine, I wasn't a teenager and I no longer had glitter make-up, high waisted flares and platforms. I can say I saw him and that's a wonderful thing.
I am about to listen to his latest work and get to know it and the beautiful thing about recorded music is that it lives on forever. I will be searching for his music and remembering tracks I've forgotten and the joy will remain with us.
I did the same thing with the record player .... I attached two speakers to mine (stereo!) and used to perch them on the back of the sofa next to each ear, like giant headphones, then istened again and again. I was totally obsessed. My bedroom wall was covered in his posters. Creative genius.
Posted by: Lynne | January 12, 2016 at 06:06 PM