Little C: Goodnight Starman

Readers, as I'm sure you've heard by now, David Bowie died. He was an artist that influenced so many people with his music and his movies, and I am no exception. I grew up on Ziggy Stardust and The Labyrinth. I've heard him from an early age remind me to "Turn and face the strange" and I've let his music and his art lead me through life. Someone cleverer than I tweeted this week that we mourn artists not because we felt like we knew them, but because they helped us learn ourselves.

I didn't want to make this post into a obituary. There have been plenty of those over the last two days. People have waxed poetic about his life and his music. They've listed all the relevant facts about his life, so I'm going to skip all of that. I've been going through my favorite Bowie songs over the last few days and I've been letting myself appreciate what an attention to detail he had. He didn't write songs, we wrote albums. Out of context half of his music doesn't make sense, but in the context of the rest of the album it's beautiful. It's not something a lot of musicians think about these days, but it makes for a singular listening experience. Not surprising, David Bowie was a singular man. 

His last album came out two days before he died. I listened to it casually, not paying attention really and I thought "This sounds like he's retiring" Of course he knew it would be his last album. And he wanted to say goodbye the best way he knew how. With a work of art. His last single starts with the line "Look up here, I'm in heaven. I've got scars that can't be seen". I'll miss you so much Starman. Goodnight. 

Happy listening. 

Little C