I don’t know where I’m going to go from here…But I promise it won’t be boring. RIP David Bowie.
I feel unbearably, unfathomably sad. I’m heavy with sorrow – not a reaction I’ve ever had to a celebrity’s death before. But with this sadness, I also feel a sense of affirmation. My Facebook feed, conversations with my friends, Twitter are all alight with messages, pictures, quotes and messages – none of them trite – and all of them showing just how many people Bowie touched.
It’s not just my left-of-centre fashion-y and music friends who are affected, but people from all backgrounds, ages and tastes.
Which is pretty remarkable really, if you look at the man and listen to his music.
In an age where people with promise are taken and moulded into a neat little box to be packaged as a pop star for one album, the constantly morphing, never pin-down-able Bowie has made a permanent impact on the music scene – and all our lives.
His albums were the perfect music to play on car journeys on family holidays – something for everyone (even Gran). As awkward teenagers, Bowie showed us that being true to yourself – no matter how odd-eyed, snaggle-toothed, scrawny and pale you were (or I certainly was) – was the best path to self-acceptance and confidence. And now, as adults, Starman can unite a room of seemingly disparate people from bankers to artists to your Dad, with everyone singing out every single lyric.
Bowie was one of the most influential artists to ever live and his body of work will never age. In a culture that pushes the middle of the road as the only thing that will resonate with the populace, I will always celebrate how such a glorious freak of nature – in every single way imaginable – managed to unite us all. That we’ve lost him and his magic is punching me in the gut today with grief and thankfulness.
“I don’t know where I’m gonna go from here,” said Bowie, “But I promise it won’t be boring.”
It definitely won’t.