At the centre of it all

January 11th, 2016

A great black hole has entered the world.

When the tears have subsided there will perhaps be more to say on this, but for now just want to put something up to mark the day and share this, which was rattling around my head a lot lately and last week especially. Check the bouncy little 303 squelch thing from about 00.55. He was ferociously good while dying.


Photo by Mick Rock, 1973. Jacket by God, infinity.

7 Responses to “At the centre of it all”

  1. Adam Says:

    Blackstar’s gravity is dangerously powerful right now. What a tune to go out on.

  2. ASheen Says:

    True legend gone

  3. The Beast Must Die Says:

    Still in shock I think. Basically my favourite person

  4. Thrills Says:

    Oh Bowie! Many great memories associated with his music and style etc. Lots of weird Bowie injokes with pals. He had the most fun speaking voice to try and badly mimic this side of Joe Strummer.

    Some cringey stuff in his career (union jack coat), some horrible stuff (70s rockstar atrocities) also, ‘cos he’s a complete person with ups and downs.

    It is genuinely weird he no longer exists.

    Gonna do my bit and stick Earthling on for the two great songs (his more ‘canonical’ songs are proving oddly hard to listen to), and pencil in a viewing of Velvet Goldmine for the six millionth time (which is the best Bowie film you could wish for).

    Here’s to you, Boz!

  5. Thrills Says:

    PS that makes it look like I am condoning Bowie’s gross past actions regarding a minor as “just 70s lads being 70s lads” but I just have no clue how to write about it, is all.

  6. withryn Says:

    I’m still shattered, I guess because I never realized how important he was to me, from childhood to relistening and finding new meaning in his work today.

    I think he was the patron saint of a lot of weirdos, growing up nearly smothered by normalcy. He was weird, always himself in whatever transmutation that happened to be, and beautiful for it.

  7. RetroWarbird Says:

    Bowie was one of the first figures that I deified, deified for his plain humanity being so overt even behind the performative artifice. Deified because we have a similar background and a resemblance as Thin White Dukes. Deified because he told me it was okay to live out in the fringe, in the outer rim; that it was superb to be a singularity, that spontaneous generation of art comes when information escapes from the gravity well. That eventually a singularity draws the main stream into it, and spits it back out changed, and not the other way round. Deified but never glorified.

    Plus it was always neat because my old dad’s name is also David Jones.

    This week feels like the event horizon.

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