I woke to the news that David Bowie has died from cancer at the age of 69 and, inasmuch as one can be bereft over the death of a rock star one has never met, I cannot quantify how this upsets me. I developed my identity with his music. It's more than culturally relevant for me - it's part of my personal definition, my definition of music. I could write 5000 words on meaningful experiences I've had while listening to Hunky Dory, seeing Tin Machine in my teens, the Modern Love era. Let's just say I've had a lot of good sex to that music - and (not simultaneously) a lot of good dinner parties.
Now I've got to dwell on the loss of a personal icon, stupidly prematurely. At least he did just about everything. I can't imagine, on his deathbed, he regretted a life unlived.
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"I can't imagine...he regretted a live unlived". That's pretty much the best we can all hope for. Such a sad loss.
ReplyDeleteI agree. On both accounts. I am seriously bummed out by this.
Delete69 seems so young these days - my parents are 67 and so full of life and vitality. Its a sad loss.
ReplyDeleteI know - my parents are 67 and 68 so I feel the same way...
DeleteA commentator in the UK described himself as sad and disconcerted for "surely Bowie is immortal" and that is just how I feel unbelievably sad about someone I don't know, and also very disconcerted. I really hope that you are right.
ReplyDeleteThat's exactly how I feel about him. He's eternally youthful, the embodiment of youth by virtue of off-the-charts creativity and an ability to (not just embrace but) create the now.
DeleteBlue blue electric blue
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